Countess Mara, Savior of Egypt
by fanfix.maiden
Summary: Mara's wounds prove to be life threatening. The greatest physician can't save her and the King needs to interfere. Mara and Sheftu are settling into married life when they receive new orders from the King. The mission is dangerous, can Sheftu honor his King when it puts Mara in danger? Meanwhile, the princess of Canaan has yet another role to play in the conservation of Egypt. M/S.
1. Chapter 1

Irenamon paced in the hall of Lord Sheftu's fine home as dawn broke, casting a lavender hue over the alabaster stone walls. Where was his Lord? Hours ago, he had left in a maddening hurry – more alarmed than Irenamon had ever witnessed. The old major domo could not help the flutters of anxiety creeping through him as he imagined Sheftu's departing words to him, "I go to the palace, old friend, to stick my head in a noose." Irenamon prayed his young master was using irony, but he knew it was not like Sheftu to behave in such a fashion. If Lord Sheftu was worried, it was certainly for good reason. But what was his concern? He had mentioned a maiden… Irenamon shook his head, he knew of no maids in Sheftu's life as of yet. He exhaled sharply and, tired of pacing, threw open the doors to the front garden, intending to walk toward the front gate. Perhaps his master would have told more information to the gatekeeper.

"May thy ka rejoice," Irenamon called out as he reached the sleepy gatekeeper.

"And yours, honored one!" The man returned, hiding a yawn.

"Have you seen our young master?"

"Not since…what was it? The stroke of three?"

Irenamon nodded and said, "Look you, did he say anything to you as he left?"

The gatekeeper scratched his head under the linen headcloth he wore and said after some deliberation, "Nay, he merely made his orders about the gate and went through." Disappointed, Irenamon made his parting comments and went away, this time heading to the kitchens. The other servants were busy preparing various fruits, unaware that their master was away. Irenamon sat down at a table and quietly accepted the drink a kitchen maid offered. He sipped the liquid while pondering how he would go about investigating this morning's events. Before he had taken another sip, a great bustle of noise reached him from beyond the kitchens. Voices were calling out and doors were being opened and closed in haste.

Irenamon left his drink and strode toward the clatter just in time to glimpse his young Lord, carrying a lithe maiden in his arms, racing down the hall. The girl was not unconscious, but badly injured, and her head lolled weakly as Sheftu moved about. For the briefest moment, she gazed in Irenamon's direction, and her sapphire eyes startled him. What bedazzling, unique eyes! Irenamon had never seen such a striking visage in all his life.

"Irenamon! Quick!" Sheftu called to him, "help me get this maid to a couch!"

"Y-yes! At once, my Lord!" Irenamon stumbled after Sheftu, "which room, honored one?"

Sheftu hesitated a moment and said, "the room of palms."

His mother's room! Irenamon did not question him, and began barking out orders to the other servants, following on Sheftu's heels. They entered the serene room and the servants prepared the couch in an instant. Lord Sheftu lowered the girl carefully onto the cushions. She winced and hissed in pain as her bloody back touched the couch, and Sheftu helped her roll to lie face-down. He held her hand and knelt beside her, anxiety marring his handsome face. He was speaking to her in a voice too quiet for Irenamon to make out what he was saying, but the tone was that of concern. The girl's eyes looked like glass as tears formed and spilled over her cheeks. Sheftu kissed her hand and Irenamon heard him this time as he said, "My love, my darling Mara, weep not! The doctor will be here in but a few moments, you will be free from this pain, soon." The girl, Mara, closed her eyes and nodded, patting the hand that held hers as if to comfort _him_. Irenamon studied this scene, question after question bubbling in his mind.

"My Lord…" Irenamon ventured, "…I'm sorry to disturb you, but –"

"Irenamon," Sheftu interjected, standing and placing his hands on the major domo's shoulders. "A doctor is coming here to treat this young lady's wounds. In the meantime, is there nothing we can give her to soothe her pain?"

"To be sure, though I cannot think of –"

Before he could go on, Sheftu interrupted him again.

"Please get it prepared at once, she has gotten much worse in just this quarter of an hour…where is that cursed doctor?"

Sheftu spun to throw open the window and call out to servants outside. He then turned and dropped a kiss on the girl's cheek and rushed out the door, stopping only to urge Irenamon to hurry after.

Irenamon hesitated no more and left as well, having the draught made up by a kitchen servant. He delivered it to Mara himself, the wheels in his mind turning to figure out who she was and what had happened to his Lord this morning. He remembered dimly that Sheftu had admitted to having trouble with a maid…was this the girl he spoke of?

Mara raised herself slightly to accept the potion, drinking it down gratefully. Even with her face so ashen, so drained of blood and color, Irenamon was captivated by her beauty. If this were his master's maiden, he understood how he might have trouble – one would risk a lot for the affection of such a pretty girl. Mara thanked him and lay back down with some effort. The tears continued to flow from her closed eyes, and Irenamon decided to give her some privacy. He went in search of Sheftu to offer further assistance. When he passed the stables, he heard the voices of two palace servants.

"So he was made a count?" One servant was saying, "And Pha - Hatshepsut has died?"

"Yes, and now our King is Thutmose, may he live forever!" the other servant said.

"May he live forever!" was the reply. Irenamon could barely believe his ears. He stumbled into their presence and demanded clarity. The palace servants fell into conversation with him, revealing the events of the early morning. They had been the servants carrying the litter that bore Sheftu and Mara home, and one of them had been in the palace for the entire morning, witnessing all that had happened there after the great battle.

"And now my Lord is a Count! And this maiden?" Irenamon said.

The servants shrugged. "She seems to be his beloved," one said.

"The King said she has saved Egypt, he honored her scars forever," the other said, "And Count Sheftu said to her several times on the journey here that she was to spend her life with him."

Irenamon felt almost giddy. A Count! And a maid! Finally, someone to fill the empty place of Sheftu's honored, departed mother at the dinner table. Bewildered, he fussed with his wig, whistling a little as he thought of something to say. Instead he chuckled a little and said goodbye before searching for his Lord – his _Count_ again.


	2. Chapter 2

The door to Inanni's chambers opened and an Egyptian servant entered, announcing something Inanni could not understand. It had been three days since she had said goodbye to Mara. Unable to converse with anyone outside her party, Inanni was kept ignorant of the tremendous turn in events. Trembling, she gathered her shawls about her and braced herself for whatever would happen next.

Thutmose strode into the room, dressed as Pharaoh, with a cobra on his brow and an ornate beard strapped to his chin.

"Greetings," he said in Babylonian. Inanni gasped and fluttered about before remembering to drop into a deep curtsey.

"Your Majesty," she said in her own tongue, "m-may you live forever." Thutmose regarded her with solemnity. He seemed to ponder his next sentence.

"Your little interpreter…needs your help." Thutmose said with some hesitation.

"My prince – "

"I am Pharaoh now!" Thutmose boomed. Inanni cowered and begged a thousand pardons, bowing low. The king beckoned her to stand, "Worry not, I realize you had no way of learning about this...as Mara has been unable to interpret for you."

"Oh yes, Your Highness," Inanni replied in a shaking voice, "it has been so difficult without her, I worry for her so…" she pulled at her shawls and continued, "but Your Majesty has not told me – you speak Babylonian?"

"I do." Was the stony reply.

"Then Mara – "

"There is much you do not know," the king said, "but it must wait. At this very moment, Mara is suffering and perhaps near death. I came to you because I know you have medicinal skills."

"Aii! Oh Ishtar, please say it is not so! What can I do to help?" Inanni said this with tears forming in her dark eyes as she fidgeted with her draperies.

"You will accompany me to her new home – that of Count Sheftu. It is there you will discuss with her physician and make whatever draught is needed to cure Mara."

"Discuss?" Inanni was confused, although she was already preparing her set for departure.

"I…" the King sighed, "I will act as translator."

"My King!" Inanni froze, hand over her heart, "to humble yourself so greatly…"

"I will gladly do it for one who was so willing to die for me and my cause."

Inanni nodded slowly, then continued packing. She called to her ladies in waiting and they finished the job in a matter of moments, and all set out with the king.

When they arrived at Sheftu's estate, an older servant guided them to a room decorated throughout with lofty palms. In the center of this room was a couch surrounded by slaves waving heavy palm leaves over a small figure covered in linens. It was Mara. Count Sheftu was beside the bed, his face in his hands. At the sound of their entrance he raised his weary head and then bowed before the king. Thutmose raised him and spoke to him in Egyptian. Sheftu's face was drawn and colorless, looking nothing like the dashing young noble Inanni remembered. He looked now as though he hadn't slept in days, and his heart was aching. But something the king said lightened Sheftu's features, and he turned to Inanni with pleading eyes. He spoke and Thutmose translated, "Count Sheftu expresses his extreme gratitude in your treatment of his future wife. He begs you to save her."

"I will do my very best," Inanni replied. Sheftu hurried away and returned with a man who must have been the physician.

The conversation that followed was brief – it was clear Mara had developed an infection from her wounds. She now lay in a feverish state, her back swollen and hot. The physician feared she may not survive the infection. Emotions ran high as this last remark was made, Sheftu had to turn away and Inanni looked to the floor, wiping away a tear.

"Is there any medicine you might prepare that could save her?" the king translated for the doctor. Inanni thought for a moment, then spoke with her ladies in waiting. She turned back to the king and said, "We can try, would Count Sheftu lend us his kitchen and some herbs?"

The king translated for Sheftu, who replied in a hasty tone, rushing to Inanni's side and bowing before her.

"Sheftu says you may use whatever his home has to offer…he even said he will give you any payment you may need to acquire additional supplies, and he offers to make you most comfortable here for any amount of time."

"Goodness that is a lot!" Inanni smiled and patted Sheftu awkwardly, "please tell His Highness I will accept no payment, and our remedies should be simple to make. I will have a salve prepared for Mara's wounds in under an hour." Inanni curtseyed to the king and Sheftu, and departed with her women. The old servant guided them to the kitchens, and they set about making the salve for Mara. As promised, it was finished in under an hour. Inanni carried it with her own hands to the room of palms, and bade the king to send all men out of the room, as they would need to expose Mara's back to apply the treatment. Sheftu and the king exchanged bewildered expressions, but obeyed, themselves lingering just outside the door.

How odd these Egyptians are! Inanni thought, they have absolutely no idea of a woman's modesty. Inanni shook her head as she pulled away the linens covering Mara's back. They were yellowed with the fluids coming from Mara's infection, and Inanni all but wept at the sight of Mara's poor back. Her flesh was raised and swollen, with deep cuts crisscrossing from her shoulders to her mid-back. Inanni couldn't imagine the pain Mara must have endured. She decided after she applied this treatment, she would try to inquire about what had happened to Mara that night, after she had helped her escape the palace.

Thankfully Mara was deeply sedated and so did not wake when Inanni rubbed the ointment into her infected flesh. The dirty parts Inanni and her women cleared away, leaving as much healthy skin as possible. The salve was thick and strong-smelling, and covered her entire back. One of the women tied Mara's inky locks into a secure bun atop her head, to prevent her hair coming into contact with the ointment. When the application was finished, Inanni laid fresh linens over Mara's back, and called the king back into the room. Sheftu followed eagerly, taking his place at Mara's side as Inanni explained the treatment to the king.

"She will need this treatment washed and changed three times, every day," Inanni said, "I might also provide a soothing cool rag for Mara's forehead. It may help her fever…"

The king explained everything to Sheftu, who was already ordering a cool cloth and draping it gingerly over Mara's brow.

"And your Highness," Inanni addressed Sheftu, "you must rest. Mara will recover just as quickly if you are rested than if you are keeping up next to her."

Sheftu made no answer after the king translated Inanni's words. A moment passed and the king said something quietly, and Sheftu murmured his response.

"Sheftu says he cannot sleep. He is haunted, day and night, over many troubles…" the king frowned as he said this. Inanni had almost guessed as much. She gestured to her women and one of them brought forth a small vial.

"This liquid," Inanni said as she took the vial and extended it to Sheftu, "is full of a moonshade draught. It will help His Highness to sleep." Sheftu accepted it with some reluctance.

"I will drink it tonight," Sheftu said to the king, "but I confess…nay, it does not matter." The king did not pry. Inanni, with a shaking hand, gently touched Pharaoh's arm and said, "I…I am so sorry to ask, but what happened to Mara? Last time I saw her, she was with me and I helped her to…heavens, I hope I did not aid in her falling into some trap!"

"Aid her? What say you?" the king did not hide his surprise, "what have you to do with Mara three nights ago?"

"Why…" Inanni trembled and pulled her headscarf tighter around herself, "I do not know, she came to my chambers and wept – she was desperate to leave, she said she had to warn…the others."

Sheftu had been regarding this exchange, though unable to understand Babylonian. The king then turned to Sheftu and spoke to him in hasty Egyptian. Inanni watched as Sheftu's countenance sharpened with wonder. He and the king were conversing liberally, and Inanni left them to it – but suddenly they turned toward her and the king said, "Princess of Canaan, precisely how were you of aid that night? If what you say is true, then it is possible we owe you a great many thanks."

Inanni's large eyes grew larger and she blinked several times before saying, "M-Majesty, I do not know that I am owed anything! I merely acted to help a friend in need!"

"Please," the king said, "tell us what transpired. And do not make me ask you again."

Inanni swallowed and began, "As I said, Mara was upset. She wept and said she needed to leave immediately, but there were sentries at the door," Inanni paused to give Thutmose time to translate, "she had…told me a few things about her sweetheart…that is, she wanted to help Sheftu." Inanni shifted uncomfortably as she spoke, troubled by Sheftu's coloring face as he heard her words translated. The king prodded her to continue and so she said, "It ached my heart to see her so, and the only way I thought I could help her would be to smuggle her out as one of my ladies in waiting. I gave her some shawls, oh how lovely she looked! Count Sheftu, she would have made you swoon in these…"

The king translated this last bit with a grimace and Sheftu's expression shifted to a mixture of grief and exasperation. Inanni anxiously spoke on, saying, "so we left my apartments together, and when the guards tried to stop us, we spoke in Babylonian and were released. I took her to my friend who escorted her outside the walls where she discarded the shawls and made her way into the night…" Inanni trailed off, looking at Mara's sleeping form now as she spoke.

"Princess," Thutmose said, "I must extend my thanks, and tell you that you have helped save Egypt. We did not know we owed you so much credit for that fateful evening's events." He made a courtly bow. Inanni's nerves almost gave way and she stammered some form of "you're welcome," though she wasn't sure if it was correct to say and followed it up with her own hearty thanks. Sheftu was smiling, and said something quietly to the king. Thutmose turned to Inanni and said, "Count Sheftu also expresses his thanks, and says he now understands why his Mara was ever fond of her Canaanite Princess."

Inanni blushed deeply at these words. She could not manage a reply, so she curtseyed to Sheftu instead.

Sheftu continued, and as the king translated, he said, "I must also extend my sincerest apologies. It is my fault alone that Mara should have fallen into so deadly a scrape. I doubted her and exposed her to her enemies, and I am responsible for every wound on her shoulders." Inanni's dark eyes lowered to the floor and Sheftu continued, "You see, my Princess, after Mara left you, she succeeded in warning my people, but was captured by the queen's men and tortured…" he broke off, his own eyes downcast.

"But you saved her, didn't you?" Inanni said as she raised her gaze, "you came for her at last."

"I did," Sheftu's voice was growing slightly thicker, "but I fear I was too late…" He swallowed and clenched his fists, looking toward Mara.

"Fear not," Inanni soothed, "the remedy I gave her has healed many of my brothers' injuries. I believe Mara will recover."

Count Sheftu bowed again as a reply, as he appeared to be too full of emotion to speak. The king placed his hand on Inanni's arm and said, "Come, my princess, let us leave him. I am weary of translating." He made some remarks to Sheftu who bowed as a farewell. Inanni and the king passed through the door and journeyed the airy home until reaching the outer doors.

"I will return to the palace now," the king said, "I will leave you here, I can try to find another interpreter for you…"

"Thank you, Majesty," Inanni said, "you have been ever so kind. I will do my best here, do not worry about another interpreter. Soon Mara will awaken" Her timid smile seemed to affect Thutmose for the first time.

"Princess," he began, "I truly…thank you." And with a curt bow, he strode off to his chariot.


	3. Chapter 3

Sheftu knelt at Mara's couch the full afternoon. He watched her breathe, softly and even. He held her small hand and wondered how it was just under a week prior that he had discovered his ring there and grasped her cruelly. For the hundredth time he recounted his words to her as he had held a knife to her throat – _who would ever know-or care?_ And the familiar, bitter regret churned his stomach. By the gods, he would give his own life gladly to take those words back. How mistaken, how terribly wrong he had been.

And now it might be too late.

After they had arrived at the great house, Mara had tried to stand to exit the litter, when suddenly her face had changed, and she stumbled, fainting right before his eyes. Sheftu had caught her and shook her back to consciousness. He did not know how much blood she had lost, he hadn't an idea of how near death she was – she had smiled and spoken to him as though... Had he known she would soon slip into a sleep beyond him, he would have told her everything he regretted, and everything he loved about her. But he was a fool, and he didn't deserve her.

That night he drank the draught the Canaanite Princess had made for him. For the first time in days, he fell into a deep sleep. His dreams were haunting, showing Mara's struggles again and again, as if reminding him of all the pain he had caused her. He awoke approximately twelve hours later, feeling energized, yet anxious – he had been away from Mara for too long. He all but ran to her room, only to be bombarded by the frantic shouts of Babylonian women, all shielding Mara from his eyes. Before he could ask any questions, he found himself pushed into the hallway. Standing there was Pharaoh himself, wearing an amused expression.

"Even I was asked to leave," Thutmose said. Sheftu made a quick bow and touched his lips and his brow in respect before gesturing with irritation toward the door.

"These foolish Canaanites," Sheftu seethed, "what can they mean to refuse me in my own house?"

"They are over-modest," the king sighed, "I was told they are bathing your Lotus-Eyed One."

Sheftu made no outward comment. _Why should they care if I see her body?_ He thought, _she is to be my wife soon enough!_

"In case you are wondering, I came to translate," Thutmose said, "I, the King of Egypt, am here to serve you." He grinned up at Sheftu.

Sheftu could not help returning the smile and said, "Aye, aye, you have reminded me, oh Sagacious One, that I am to be grateful for this aid. Pray, forgive my earlier impudence. I am much indebted to you, Lion of Wisdom, and to the fair Princess of Canaan."

"Do not think of it," said the king, "you have not slept well, these past few days. It is no wonder your mind is scattered about."

Just then the door swung open and Inanni peeked out to beckon to Sheftu and the king. They entered the room which was bright and airy, with the fresh scent of rose water left over from Mara's bath. Mara was perched on the couch, awake and nibbling on fruits. Her hair was clean and tied into a bun, and she was covered in new linens. Sheftu went to her at once, gathering her to him while whispering against her hair. Mara smiled over his shoulder, saying, "Take care not to disturb my princess's careful work, these linens –" and Sheftu cut her off with a kiss. The others in the room withdrew, some embarrassed, others smiling as they took parting glances at the couple.

"Sheftu," Mara said against his lips, "you have been troubled." Sheftu renewed his vigor, and Mara relaxed against him. He broke off gently, saying, "Aye, I have been troubled, Little One." Mara was silent, and he continued, "I feared you would leave me, and go where I cannot follow."

Mara's hand cupped his cheek and her bright eyes traveled his face. "Of course I would not leave you," she breathed, "you have promised me luxuries and jewels, why would I leave before I can collect these?" Familiar amusement filled Sheftu and he felt himself grinning. "Beloved, you are only too correct, as always." He gave her a chaste kiss and stepped away enough to examine her.

"How is your pain?" he said.

"Much improved," Mara moved her shoulders up and down.

"May I see?" Sheftu said, "The princess guarded you like a lioness, and I have been unable to know your progress."

"Aiii, all men are alike, begging to see a disrobed maid," Mara feigned annoyance, a smirk hiding in the corner of her mouth. Sheftu was not sure if he wanted to make a sardonic reply or kiss the smirk from her lips.

"Have I no right to look upon my future wife?" Sheftu folded his arms. He was rewarded with a blush from Mara as she thought of a clever remark. None came to her, as she finally said, "So be it, I don't…mind if you look." And she turned to make it easier for him. He did not remove much, he only wanted to assure himself of her improvement. Inanni had dressed Mara's wounds in more of her ointment, but Sheftu could see the wounds were no longer swollen with infection, and the redness was gone. Many of them were closed already. Satisfied, he replaced the bandage.

"Well?" Mara inquired.

"You are much better," came Sheftu's relieved reply, "I am glad our king thought of the princess's talents."

"I am quite surprised," Mara confessed, "I thought he would never think of her again."

Sheftu nodded, saying, "Indeed, he has even been acting as interpreter since you have been asleep." Mara's astonished face filled Sheftu with mirth. Her eyes, naked without the usual line of khol above them, appeared rounder and younger than usual, giving her an adorable sense of innocence that warmed Sheftu to the core.

"Osiris!" Mara murmured, "I can scarce believe it!"

"Believe, Little One," came the booming voice of the king. Sheftu turned to see Thutmose reentering the room, the princess trailing after. Sheftu stepped aside in case His Majesty wanted to address Mara. The princess was hovering over her, mumbling and bumbling about in her usual Babylonian. Mara was answering her in her own soft voice, making the language sound musical, as Inanni brought fruit to Mara's lips. Mara had bowed to Thutmose from her couch, and was enjoying again the many fruits and sweetmeats upon her plate.

"You have some color again," the king said, "I am glad this Syrian was able to cure you."

"Your Majesty, thank you so much for your kindness," Mara beamed, and as Inanni passed her again, she reached out and took her hand. "I must tell you of what this princess has done for me and for Egypt," Mara began, "If not for her –"

"She told us herself," the king interjected, "in her anxiety for your wellbeing, she told the tale. I have expressed my gratitude and am still deliberating on how to repay her…"

Inanni was looking blankly between faces, not understanding all this Egyptian. Sheftu watched as Mara spoke to the princess again in Babylonian, and the two women were lively and emotional as they conversed. As glad as Sheftu was to see Mara so happy, he grew impatient to be alone with her again.

"I think for today this has been enough excitement for you," Thutmose addressed Mara, "the princess insisted on remaining here as your nurse, and I have returned to translate for my friend, Sheftu, though I see I am no longer needed. I must bid you farewell, Little Interpreter." Mara thanked him again and bowed as he made to quit the room. On his way, he motioned for Sheftu to follow.

In the hallway, the king said, "I believe my work here is done, your Lotus Flower is returning to health."

"I cannot thank you enough," Sheftu knelt and bowed his head. The king raised him and said, "as usual, it is I who am grateful. Now, when is the wedding to take place?" The question stirred a mixture of nervous and elated emotions inside Sheftu.

"It cannot be soon enough for me," he grinned, "though I think we should wait until Mara is completely healed."

"Agreed," the king said, clapping Sheftu on the shoulder, "Just name the date and I will have the grandest of ceremonies arranged."

"Thank you, Majesty," Sheftu inclined his head and Thutmose took his leave. Sheftu returned to the room of palms, but lingered in the doorway, observing his bride as she chatted to Inanni and continued to eat. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the relief of Mara's recovery really wash over him. Gratitude filled him to the bone. Looking at her now, one would never guess she had been so near death. Her features were mobile as always, her skin glowing and golden. Her eyes met Sheftu's and her face broke into a radiant smile. Sheftu felt in that moment he was the luckiest man alive.


	4. Chapter 4

As Mara continued to recover, several people came to visit her. First was Nekonkh, who stood around awkwardly and grumbled kind words. Next was Miphtahyah and Ashor. Miphtahyah squeezed Mara's hands and tearfully thanked her while Ashor congratulated Sheftu on his upcoming marriage. Inanni never left Mara for too long, and stayed true to her schedule of washing and dressing Mara's wounds. To Mara's surprise and curiosity, Thutmose visited every day. He was spending increasing amounts of time with Inanni, walking with her around the grounds and even bringing her the occasional gift. Mara questioned Inanni frequently, but the modest princess could only say the king was very kind to her – and oh, so handsome! Could it be, Mara thought, that the king is falling in love with the Canaanite after all?

Of course, Sheftu was never far away. He met with Irenamon to discuss business, and when the king came he always had at least one private conversation with him, but otherwise he was continually with Mara. He brought her scrolls to read and commentated as she uncovered some passage he cared about or other. Mara was reminded of their time on the Silver Beetle, although now she could relax with the confidence that all Sheftu's amiable manners were genuine and not plotting. Likewise, Mara too could retire her scheming wits and merely enjoy the days of recovery.

One mild afternoon, Sheftu and Mara sat side by side in the room of palms, sharing a plate a waterfowl.

"You haven't told me," Mara said, "when was it you began to love me?"

Sheftu chuckled. "Blue-eyed One, I think I loved you at first sight. I had never seen such a girl!"

"Really?" Mara said, smirking.

"Aye, you frustrated me – I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You never seemed smitten," Mara ate another piece of waterfowl, "you had so many chances to kiss me, but did not."

"I thought about it," Sheftu traced circles over her knee, the sheer fabric of her sheath dress showing the outline of her form, "So many times..." he trailed off as his fingers ran up her thigh, and stopped at her hip.

"Why did you not?" Mara had chills from his light touch.

Sheftu shrugged, "I was a fool – I did not think you so devoted to me. I did not believe such a thing could be possible."

"Yet you did kiss me…the night you found the ring," Mara suddenly couldn't meet his eyes. Sheftu cupped her face, urging her to look at him.

"Beloved, that night for me was life changing – in more ways than one. It took five hours in the dark for me to gain the courage to see truth – which is that you are a ka maid, sent to aide me."

"Until you noticed the ring!"

Sheftu laughed sheepishly, "Aye, as I said, I was a fool."

"It matters not, now. I have snared you at last." Mara covered his hand with her own, then turned her head to kiss his palm, which was still resting on her cheek. Sheftu drew a sharp breath, and Mara grinned with her lips against him, kissing him again.

"Oh Amon, if you were not still wounded, I would show you right this moment all the things I have dreamed to do to you!" Sheftu gripped her face with both hands, fingers tangling into her hair, and kissed her. Mara returned his kiss with fervor, accidentally knocking over a plate as she leaned into his lap. The servants scrambling to pick it up brought the two back to their senses. Sheftu reluctantly released her, and Mara busied herself by pouring him a drink.

"I did not believe you had any dreams of what you might do to me, aside from kill me," Mara said mischievously, resuming their conversation.

"Ever the skeptic," Sheftu sighed, glaring at the servants who interrupted him, "come, tell your tale then. Did it take you many days to love me?" He gave her his usual charming smile and Mara's insides fluttered as she answered, "I…I am not sure when exactly it was. On the Silver Beetle, I saw you one night…you were looking away from me, and you looked so lonely. But aii, that is not the moment – I believe it was during the audience with – but no, it wasn't quite then either…" Mara frowned in thought and she brought her hand to her mouth, biting the side of her thumb.

"When did you know you couldn't ruin me?" Sheftu said softly, his face inches from hers again. Mara raised her blue eyes and flushed despite herself.

"Sheftu," she whispered, "I don't think I ever could have…" Next moment she was back in his embrace, and they did not care if the servants watched them.

When Mara could finally dress properly again, Sheftu took her on short walks, teaching her about her home. Her favorite room was the library, which was full of scrolls – more than she had ever seen. Sheftu promised to buy her every scroll that was ever written, and Mara threw her arms about his neck, laughing at the joyous absurdity.

At last Mara's shoulders were healed. Inanni examined her patient one last time, and remarked, "You know, Mara, there really are not very many scars. Your skin has healed nicely."

"Thank you, for everything," Mara gripped her, "you have been my first friend and confidante, and have saved my life and Egypt!" Tears stung Mara's eyes, "I almost cannot bear to see you go, but I have gotten permission from Sheftu that you may return to Canaan….it is the only gift I can really give you, though it pains me!"

"Actually," Inanni started, her pale face turning pink, "I may choose…to stay."

"Princess!" Mara gasped, "what can this mean?"

"The king and I…grow closer every day," Inanni's face only reddened further, "I cannot dream that he would love me, but, oh Mara, he has asked me stay!"

"Why, that is wonderful news!" Mara cried, and Inanni embraced her, too full to speak.

Inanni returned to the palace, with many thanks and tears. Mara promised to visit her as often as possible, and insisted she attend the wedding – which was scheduled for three days hence. That evening, Mara and Sheftu walked the halls of their home and as Mara turned to enter her room, Sheftu stopped her, guiding her onward down the hall.

"But Sheftu, it is growing late."

"Aye, beloved," Sheftu said, "but you will not be returning to the room of palms."

"Oh? Is there another room I should occupy?" Mara hesitated, and Sheftu put an arm around her waist and urged her forward.

"There is," Sheftu said with warmth, "my own room, of course!"

Mara had not expected this and felt the blood rushing through her as her heart quickened. She stammered a reply, though she wasn't quite sure what she said. Sheftu stopped and faced her. "My lovely Mara," his voice was teasing, "could it be that you are nervous?" He leaned close to her until she found herself backed against the wall. She realized she had been holding her breath and released it, saying, "Aii! and why should I be nervous?"

Sheftu's dark eyes studied her upturned face. He wound both arms around her and said, "I merely worry for you, beloved. I do not want you to be wary of my bed. As my wife you will need to be beside me."

At these words, Mara softened. She pressed close to Sheftu, and impulsively kissed his cheek.

"Sheftu, when will you learn? I fear nothing." She whispered this close to his ear, smiling.

Sheftu turned his head and kissed her, lightly and gently. As Mara responded, Sheftu deepened the kiss, opening her mouth. Some time passed like this, flush against the cool stone of the wall, their chins undulating in harmony. Sheftu's hands moved up and down her sides, first softly and then firmly, and Mara eventually found herself dizzy with desire as Sheftu crushed her against him. Finally, he lifted her and carried her the rest of the journey to his chambers. Once inside, he eased her onto the soft cushions of his couch and paused, gazing at her beneath him. Mara's heart was pounding, and the way he was looking at her stirred something deep inside her. He spoke, and his voice was low and soft. "I love you, Mara," he said. He kissed her again, so ardently it took Mara's breath away.

Mara awoke some time before dawn, the flicker of the candle on the nearby table catching her eye. She stirred and a new sensation – a sort of soreness – brought her mind back to the events only a handful of hours before. A pleasant shiver ran through her and she stroked Sheftu's head, which lay peacefully on her chest. His naked body, long and lean and brown, was wrapped around hers in a sweet embrace. She played with his thick hair, which she had only seen this night, for usually he wore a headcloth. Of course, there had been glimpses of his dark hair from time to time as he moved or scratched his head, but Mara had never seen him completely remove his headdresses. He had beautiful hair, soft and dark and attractively styled. Mara marveled at how young he looked without any headcloth…or any clothes, for that matter.

Eyes traveling over his body, Mara again felt a subtle wave of giddiness come over her. Sheftu had been patient and gentle as he made love to her, and Mara had felt none of the pain she had been warned of by more experienced women. Soon after he began, Mara's only sensation was pleasure, and she didn't mind repeating the act until they both fell asleep.

Now, Mara gazed dreamily upon Sheftu's face, so relaxed as he slept. She had never seen him look so innocent, so pure, as he did while he lay there asleep. Mara smiled and touched his cheek. Blissfully content, Mara began to drift back to sleep.

Sometime later, Mara woke to Sheftu's rapid breathing. His face was contorted, his eyes still closed. The arms around her tightened and he mumbled something about a torch, before suddenly calling out. Mara did not hesitate to wake him, and he sat up with a jolt, taking some time to come to his senses. He covered his face with his hands as he caught his breath. Eventually he dropped his hands, checked the candle and sighed, facing Mara.

"Beloved…it was merely a dream," Sheftu took her hand, "thank you for waking me." He kissed her hand and settled back into the pillows. Mara leaned over him, concern furrowing her brow.

"Sheftu, have you always had nightmares?"

"Nay, I have not," he murmured.

"Only recently?" Mara leaned closer.

"Aye, since the…dark river," his eyes shifted to her face, "it is why, Little One, I have to keep a candle burning. I cannot stand the dark."

"Aiii Sheftu! It is no wonder!" Suddenly a new thought came to her and she clung to him, "Sheftu! Could it be the khefts? Have they followed in your shadow?"

Sheftu chuckled and raised a hand to stroke her cheek, "Fear not, Lotus Eyed one. It was merely the late father of our Pharaoh. Would he not want his son to have the gold?"

Mara paused. "Aye…but Sheftu – "she cut herself off, thinking. _So that was who it was_ , she thought, _but still, the khefts!_

"Mara," Sheftu soothed, "I promise thee, I am not cursed." He held her face between his hands, "behold, I'm here in front of you, safe, and made of flesh and bone." Mara nodded reluctantly, then wrapped her arms around Sheftu's neck, lying on his chest. Sheftu pulled her closer, both arms circling her waist.

"Oh, Mara," Sheftu sighed, "I don't deserve thee…my fate is so carefully watched by thy Lotus Eyes."

A warm affection for him overcame her and Mara tightened her hold on him. This was the Sheftu she had seen that night on the Silver Beetle, vulnerable and genuine, not hiding behind a glib tongue and charming smile. At last she was here to comfort him and relate to him.

Sheftu kissed her shoulder, then her neck, making a trail of feather-light kisses up to her jaw. Each touch sent thrills through her. He changed the pressure, kissing her skin more deliberately. He moved down to her collarbone, and Mara's breath caught. Suddenly he rolled so that she was pinned under him. He captured her mouth with his in a long, deep kiss. When he finally broke away, he breathed, "Little One, am I hurting you?" Mara's wits were scattered from Sheftu's kisses, and she could only reply, "…what?"

Sheftu kissed her again, then said, "From last night…is your hurt too great?"

Mara shifted under him and said, "Nay, not overmuch."

Sheftu swallowed hard and said, "I…want you again," he kissed her and added, "Great Amon, you cannot fathom how many times I have thought of having you right here, just like this!"

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her and breathing in the scent of her hair. Mara's breaths came quicker, and she hugged Sheftu to her.

"Sheftu," she panted as he continued at her neck, "please…" Without another word, he closed the gap between them.


	5. Chapter 5

Irenamon knocked on his master's door in the morning.

"Come back later!" His master's voice sounded strained.

"Highness, is aught amiss?" Irenamon reached to open the door, but stopped as Sheftu called out, "Nay, I am –" and his voice stopped, replaced by… _is he laughing?_ Irenamon asked himself, thoroughly puzzled. Then he heard a softer laugh, a female laugh. Irenamon froze, his mind finally solving the puzzle.

"Nay, I am merely preoccupied," Sheftu said, calmer now, "I crave but an hour of peace this morning – tell the others!"

"Of course, master!" Irenamon answered. He relaxed and smiled, rubbing his hands together as he shuffled down the corridor. Perhaps soon, there would be little ones to look after again! He chuckled as he pictured little blue eyed babes, toddling through the halls of the great house.

Sheftu's wife would make a perfect mother, Irenamon thought. She was little and thin, but he could see strength in her every movement. She had scarce been in the house for a month, yet Irenamon had really taken to the maid. He enjoyed her wit and sense of humor, and he loved the way his master came to life in her presence. It was said she came from slavery, but it was evident that she had originally been high-born. Everything about her graceful movements, her defined features and excellent figure proclaimed nobility. Irenamon sighed happily, there was no better mate for his young master.

With the wedding only two days away, the entire household was buzzing with activity. Constant shipments of fine wines, cheeses and flowers occupied most of Irenamon's time. Technically, according to Egyptian law, Mara and Sheftu were already married – the only requirement in Egypt was that a couple take up residence together. However, due to Sheftu's rank and wealth, a celebration was expected.

Most of the celebration would take place in the garden, though Pharaoh had arranged a ceremony at the palace. Mara had no relations to represent her, so the river Captain had agreed to play the role. Irenamon walked to a window and peered out, searching the front gate – Nekonkh was due to arrive any moment. The ceremony would be elaborate and formal, the best Pharaoh had to offer – and it was imperative that the Captain was prepared, so Sheftu had arranged for Nekonkh to visit and try some fine garments or other.

In the distance, Irenamon spied a chariot coming down the avenue. This must be the Captain, he thought. Irenamon made his way to the front gate to greet him. Nekonkh arrived, his wig slightly askew from the ride. He passed the horses over to the stable boy as Irenamon greeted him, "A fine morning it is, Captain!"

"Aye, that it is," Nekonkh smiled, straightening his wig.

"Do come inside, my master will be with you soon."

Nekonkh followed Irenamon into the great house, and was guided to the library. Irenamon offered the Captain refreshments and scrolls while he waited. The riverman accepted these and sat in a chair by the window. Irenamon bowed and exited the room, seeking the kitchen. The servants were preparing two feasts of fruits and freshly squeezed juices for the perfuming of the mouth.

"I think this morning we will only require one platter," Irenamon informed them. The servants exchanged glances, and some of them smiled.

"Then," a maid said, "which room will receive the platter?"

"Our fine master's room," Irenamon said, "also see to it that two servants attend the bathing and dressing – someone fetch a gown from our mistress's collection."

"Right away, honored one!"

"Stay a moment – " Irenamon touched his chin in thought, "delay by…perhaps another quarter-hour."

The maids now giggled and winked at one another, shuffling back to their tasks. Irenamon shook his head and moved on to his next assignment – organizing the wedding litter. There would be 4 in total; one bearing the Count and Countess, one for the Syrian Princess, one for Nekonkh, and the grandest one for the King. The other guests would be arriving by their own mode of transportation, most likely chariots.

Nekonkh sat in the sunny library, content with the rich treats and engrossing scrolls surrounding him. Every detail of the room was elegant and pleasing. The furniture was made of fine, solid woods from foreign lands, carved into sophisticated chairs, tables and chests. Here and there were green plants, swaying gently in the morning breeze, the sound so calming Nekonkh nearly relaxed into sleep. Minutes went by, and still there was no sign of Sheftu. Nekonkh adjusted the cushion on his chair and rested his head, closing his eyes. _I will only relieve my tired eyes a moment_ , he thought. Instead he drifted off almost instantly.

"If I had known you were dozing the morning away I wouldn't have stopped what I was doing to tend to you!" Sheftu's voice cut into Nekonkh's slumber. Nekonkh gasped and jolted upright, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"A thousand apologies!" Nekonkh grunted, adjusting his wig. He rubbed his eyes. Sheftu was lounging against a desk, lazily as usual, sipping a goblet of fresh fruit juices.

"I was waiting, but this room is so peaceful, an old man such as myself…" Nekonkh stretched, his back popping and cracking, "I drifted off!"

"So I witnessed," Sheftu's amused eyes met his over the rim of his golden goblet. There was a twinkle in them that Nekonkh wasn't sure he had ever seen before. "No matter," Sheftu moved from the desk, "we are behind schedule, Captain, and I confess it is my own fault. Let us go directly to my honored father's wardrobe. I am confident we will find you something for the wedding."

Nekonkh walked with Sheftu down many corridors, remarking a change in the nobleman's air – was there a skip in Sheftu's step? He almost appeared to be strutting, his gait was so assured.

"So…" Nekonkh started awkwardly, "married life suiting you…?"

Sheftu's charming smile was even more pronounced than usual, "Is it so obvious?"

"You look as though you have been bewitched!" Nekonkh chuckled.

"And so I have been, from the moment I saw that remarkable girl," his dark eyes regarded Nekonkh, "I never would have guessed, but you have proven to be more intuitive than expected."

"Well, I – " Nekonkh cleared his throat.

"But then, even that fool Pessiur noticed something…" Sheftu pondered aloud, "I may have been completely transparent after all."

"Well," Nekonkh said again, "both you and the girl were…one could tell by looking at you…" Nekonkh trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

"If only I had been as perceptive," Sheftu stopped to open a door and held it open from Nekonkh. The Captain followed into the room.

"Aye, but it is the way with love – don't dwell on it. Your pretty maid is here now, and I'll wager you'll live a long and peaceful life together."

"With you at our side, no doubt in my mind remains," Sheftu clapped Nekonkh's shoulder, "and now, Captain, it is time we dress you to befit a Courtier!"

Mara had remained in Sheftu's chambers to be bathed and dressed as the Count met with Nekonkh. The servant attending her was an older lady, but her taste in dress was youthful and modern. She arranged Mara's hair into soft locks flowing over her shoulders, and set a thin, golden band atop her head. Within the band she tucked two lotus blossoms – one blue and the other pink. Mara's eyes she painted with the usual black khol, but added a hint of gold on her eyelids, too. The gown she selected for Mara was the typical white, but made from a linen so fine, it was like a shroud of mist about her slim body. Golden bands were added to Mara's upper arms, as well as a sapphire necklace at her throat. The servant patted perfumed oils on Mara's skin, then led her to a looking glass to appraise herself.

Mara gazed at her reflection with wonder. Never had she been so draped in luxury. The lotus blossoms illuminated her eyes – the blue mimicked and the pink contrasted, both enriching the blue of her iris. Her body, thin and golden, looked striking and attractive in the dress, which was cut perfectly to compliment her stylish figure. The jewels upon her chest glittered the same color as her eyes and the blue lotus – a most exquisite sight.

"Is it satisfactory, Highness?" The servant appeared over her shoulder in the mirror. Mara smiled.

"Yes, I'm pleased."

"Thank you, my Lady." Touching her shoulder in respect, the servant withdrew. Mara lingered a moment at the mirror, almost fearing to look away, should this be only a dream. She took a deep breath, still smiling, and set off to find Sheftu and Nekonkh.

 _If only I could adjust to these sandals!_ Mara thought as she padded through her home. She had too much pride to remove them, however, so she continued onward, despite their pinching and rubbing. It simply wouldn't do to be seen walking barefoot when the rest of her ensemble was so sophisticated. Staring down at the uncomfortable sandals, she didn't have time to prepare for the large man rounding the corner before her. They collided with mutual surprise and apologies, then paused, gaping.

"Nekonkh?" Mara spoke first. The riverman stood before her, in a crisp, stark-white Shenti. The sash was spun with golden thread and an emerald-hung chain flashed upon his collarbones. His wig was new and styled, a golden band similar to her own sitting above his brow. He looked younger, and handsome.

"Mara – my lady!" Nekonkh fumbled a bow, blinking rapidly.

"My lady _indeed_ ," Sheftu drew a deep breath, then took Mara's hand and kissed it, "lovely as ever."

"Are these your wedding clothes?" Mara asked of Nekonkh.

"Aye," Nekonkh patted his wig, "are those yours?"

"Nay, these are her regular clothes, Captain. You must remember our little guttersnipe is now a part of nobility." Sheftu dodged a pinch from Mara, smiling down at her.

"What will ye be wearin' to the wedding then, Little One? A dress of gold?"

As it turned out, she did. Most of Mara's dress on her wedding day was woven from threads of gold, pleated in with strips of translucent white linen. Her arms, neck, ankles and brow were heavy with gold and jewels. She shone like a star in the Egyptian sunshine.

Inaani had created a canopy for the ceremony, which was laden with fresh flowers. Nekonkh stood under the canopy with Mara and Sheftu, sweating buckets and stuttering his parts of the ceremony. But Mara and Sheftu only gazed at each other, solemnly repeating the vows given to them by the priest. Inanni wept from her place near the King, and he squeezed her hand. All the Egyptian court was there, staring in awe at the beautiful bride before them, and the most powerful man in Egypt, aside from Pharaoh. Everyone cheered as the ceremony ended and the young couple kissed.

The feast following would turn out to be the talk of every city, town and village along the Nile. Delicacies from around the world floated through the crowds on glittering platters of gold. Inaani sat next to Mara, giddy and shining behind her shawls.

"Oh Mara, it's just such a beautiful day, is it not?" She gripped Mara's slender arm, "I am so happy for you!"

"Thank you, princess," Mara held Inanni's hand, "If not for you, I wouldn't be here."

"It is the same with me, Mara." Inaani grew serious, "If you hadn't been my interpreter, I imagine I would have been sent away immediately."

"Doubtful, I believe the King has been attracted to you from first sight, he just did not know it!"

"You are being kind to me, as usual," a sheepish smile brightened Inaani's countenance, "but I know the truth, Mara."

"Princess, let us not think of it. We are together today, and the King has never seemed fonder of you." Mara gestured to Thutmose, who was staring at the two women while Sheftu spoke quietly into his ear. Upon meeting Inaani's glance, the King's stony face softened. Inaani blushed and turned back to Mara.

"Heavens! Mara, what should I do?"

"What should you do?" Mara echoed.

"How can I…proceed?" Inaani's face grew redder. Mara grinned and relaxed back into the cushions of her seat.

"You mean, proceed with Pharaoh? Just smile at him." Mara nibbled a fig as if this was the most obvious notion.

"How did you attract Sheftu? How did you…proceed with him?"

Mara laughed outright.

"Proceed? Princess, say on what you really mean. I can't follow you!"

"I mean," Inaani swallowed, "After you and Sheftu had some feelings developed, how did you come to a point to declare your love? When did he tell you?"

"Oh, that," Mara sat up again, setting down her figs. "It was…" she stopped, her brow contorted, "I think the situation between Sheftu and I was quite – unique."

Inaani blinked, then nodded, turning her goblet on the table thoughtfully. "Ah, so it was," she sighed.

Mara felt warmer suddenly, as memories of Sheftu's rough kisses on that fateful night in the Falcon's courtyard came back to her. How could she describe the dance that had been her and Sheftu's romance? It was certainly not a typical courtship. It was not a courtship at all! One minute he would take her in his arms, the next he would snub her or hurt her. Their conversations all felt like duels, but they couldn't stop talking. It was very perplexing.

But their love was real. That was plain enough. Mara knew, but could not explain such a thing. She pondered how to tell the princess…

A shadow fell across her. "Beloved, Pharaoh craves a word." It was Sheftu. Something in his manner was tense, angry.

Mara hesitated, but after murmuring something to Inaani, she stood and followed Sheftu to the King. Together, the three of them entered the house and locked themselves inside Sheftu's study.

"Little Interpreter," Thutmose said immediately, "I need to call on you again for your talents."

Mara's eyes flitted from Thutmose to Sheftu, who leaned moodily against his desk, arms crossed.

"There are threats to Egypt and I need you for a mission."

"Majesty," Sheftu interjected before Mara could speak, "May I let her know the facts?" His words were calm, but his voice betrayed his inner anger.

"Count Sheftu, I would remind you that I am Pharaoh, but because it is your wedding day, I will excuse your lapse in respect." The King's fierce, dark eyes met Sheftu's equally fiery ones. Sheftu was silent. Thutmose turned back to Mara, "You may want to be seated."

Panic blanched Mara's visage as anxieties of what was to come flashed through her mind. With trembling knees, she went to the nearest chair and sat, rigid and cold.

"There has been an uprising in the land of Canaan. An organized coupe has overthrown the royal family and placed a usurper on the throne. It is said this man is bloodthirsty and seeks to conquer every land on the horizon." Thutmose began to pace. "It won't be long before they attempt an invasion on Egypt."

Mara's mouth was dry. Just what did he want her to do about all of this?

"I expect it did not escape your notice that the Princess of Canaan remains here," the king's steps slowed, and he lowered his voice, "I have yet to inform the princess of her family's peril. You see, her father and brothers were the royal family…I know not whether they live or die…"

"Your Majesty," A hard lump was forming in Mara's throat, "why have you not told Inaani?"

The King's head snapped in her direction, his pacing ceased. In the same moment, Sheftu moved closer to Mara.

"Should I create panic where there could be blissful ignorance? What answers have I to provide her with, should she ask a question?" Thutmose came closer. Out of the corner of Mara's eye, she noted Sheftu's fists were clenched.

"Little Interpreter," Thutmose's voice softened, "do understand, I have reasons for the things I do. I will tell the Syrian Princess when the time is right."

Mara nodded solemnly.

"Now," and the king resumed his pacing, "You must be wondering why it is I have told you this and brought you here for a private hearing." He only glanced at Sheftu's scowl before continuing, "Your Babylonian is as good as any native speaker, and being a woman, you have the advantage of blending in easily as someone's maidservant, or some other role. I need you in Canaan…find a way into the trust of these usurpers, spy on them, and send back to me the notions of their attacks."

Mara's mind blanked. She blinked, shook her head, and suddenly she was overwhelmed. It was happening again…so soon. She had enjoyed a mere month or so as a free maid, and a countess, but now in the blink of an eye she was snared in a political scheme again. Questions overran her mind; what about Sheftu? Why was she being told of this today? How could she pretend to be Canaanite when she looked so Egyptian? Would Inanni be sent away?

"I have told Pharaoh that I believe this mission to be too dangerous," Sheftu's voice cut into her thoughts. Mara gazed up at him from her seat, and it struck her that this was the first time she had ever witnessed Sheftu conflicted over his King's orders. Even when his own missions had been deadly, Sheftu had kept calm and complacent. But not this time.

The King gave an impatient sigh. "Yes, Count Sheftu has advised me profusely of the dangers," Thutmose poured himself a glass of wine from Sheftu's stock on the desk. "It is why I have asked him to help plan the scheme – of course I wish for your success and safety, I am not a tyrant like my sister, I do not use my people as disposable pawns." He turned to Sheftu, "I have thought carefully over this. I know the girl is clever – she discovered you within hours of being employed by Nahareh. Because of her language skill it would be almost stupid to not use her."

Sheftu wasn't looking at Thutmose. His eyes traveled over his beautiful, precious wife. His hand touched her cheek.

"Whatever plan we make, Majesty, must involve me, too." Sheftu said, "I will go with her. I cannot send her alone."

"As you wish, though I know not how you would manage." Thutmose sank into a chair, dropping the formal airs as he gulped his wine.

"I could play the role of her father, sickly and in need of her care, therefore justifying my presence." Sheftu said.

"Her father?" Thutmose laughed, "you hardly look a year older than her!"

"Perhaps I could be your interpreter?" Mara held Sheftu's hand.

"Interpreter? But why would I – "

"The King just said that there is a new government. Who's to say Egypt wouldn't send a diplomat to greet the new rulers?"

Sheftu and Thutmose locked eyes.

"Sheftu could be the diplomat and I his humble interpreter."

Sheftu was nodding, his finger tapped his chin. "It just might work," he said.

"I need not emphasize the importance your true identities are not discovered," Thutmose said, "it is possible Mara's story has travelled and she would be known then as a spy."

"We can pretend, can't we, Mara?" Sheftu smiled dryly.


	6. Chapter 6

"You will need to leave tonight," said the King, "I had already sent a messenger to Cairo to expect a single woman, but now that plans have changed, you will need to intercept him."

"Why?" Mara said, "Can't we just explain it ourselves?"

"No," Thutmose took another drink of wine, "there are those among the receiving end of the message whom I do not trust. It is my aim to get you past them and into Canaan."

"We already had our wedding tour planned, we will have Nekoknh meet us outside of Thebes and change ships," Sheftu said.

"How will we send word back to you?" Mara said.

"I will send a messenger. You will know."

After a pause, Mara spoke softly, "What about Inaani?"

The King sat up. "What of her?"

"What will you tell her?"

"I already said, I will inform the Syrian princess of this matter when the time is right."

"But-"

"Mara, the King has spoken," Sheftu laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I only meant…" Mara glanced at Thutmose, "I thought the King was perhaps…growing fond of the princess – is that why His Majesty has asked her to stay in Egypt?"

The King's expression was unreadable. "To send her back during an uprising would come with difficult political consequences."

"I see," Mara's face fell, "then it had nothing to do with…" Mara gazed up at him from under her lashes, letting her lips fall into a pout. It was a trick she had used many a time on Reshed.

Thutmose scowled. "If you _must_ know, it is true the Syrian has improved in my eyes of late." He turned to Sheftu, shaking his head, "This maid! You, my friend, have your hands full. She could wrench a secret from a mute!"

Sheftu laughed, "I couldn't agree more. She has outwitted me a dozen times at least, I've no secrets left."

"I only ask!" Mara was smirking, "I can't be blamed for asking questions."

"It is true," the King stood, "now, I loath to send you both away so soon, but it cannot be helped. Look for my messenger in Abydos. He is planning to break his journey there at the Inn of Nine Lives. His name is Bhetosh."

"Bhetosh – what does he look like?"

"Tall, big shouldered, a striped headcloth."

"We will find him, Majesty." Sheftu made a quick bow.

"I have no doubt," Thutmose stood, "I trust in your success, but I must again warn you to keep your identities and relationship a secret. You cannot be found out. Sheftu, as for your identity, you may invent whomever you see fit, but do not repeat the scribe."

"Of course," Sheftu said.

"I will go now to join the rest for the farewell ceremony for your wedding tour." Thutmose set his empty goblet on the table and crossed the room. He stood in the doorway, saying, "Come out when you're ready." Mara and Sheftu bowed, and he was gone.

A minute of silence passed, then Mara backed into the chair and sat, a lump in her throat. Sheftu watched as she wrung her hands nervously. He knelt before her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and resting his head on her chest. She hugged his head, laying her cheek against his headcloth. Just like that, her world was once again turned upside down.

Three hours later, Mara and Sheftu sat side-by-side on the deck of the _Highwind._ Nekonkh was somewhere below deck. Outside of Nekonkh and the King, not a soul knew of this mission. They had left their wedding celebration, holding hands, smiling, and waving goodbye under the pretense of going on a wedding tour. Mara had put on a brave face and was able to disguise a few tears for joy. Inaani's own face had shined with happy weeping, a sight which only weighed Mara's already heavy heart more. Last to see them off was the King – solid and formal, as usual. He betrayed none of their plans but gave a knowing smile to Sheftu and Mara as their litter whisked them away to the Nile.

"We had better get changed," Sheftu murmured now, as the _Highwind_ accelerated up the river.

The sun was setting, and Thebes was disappearing in the distance. Mara hung her head, studying the golden fabric and jewels across her body. Removing these would be the final break from her luxurious life – a life she may never see again, should this mission fail. And how short-lived that life had been! To be sure, only a week or two had been spent in full health.

"Beloved?" Sheftu had stood and extended a hand to help her rise. Mara sighed bitterly and accepted his hand.

"I know it is not ideal," Sheftu spoke softly after they had entered their cabin. He guided her to the bed and sank down beside her. "It is not what we want, but if it will save Egypt, we must try."

"What if Pharaoh is being overly concerned?" Mara muttered.

"Then we will report no danger and return home sooner than expected," Sheftu took her hand.

"How can you be so…so..." Mara toyed with the amulet on his wrist with her free hand as she searched for words. Her brows knit together. "How can you be so apathetic about the King's orders?"

"Apathetic?" Sheftu's voice rose and he leaned away from her, studying her as if she had accused him of being Set Himself. "Little One, I am far from apathetic."

"You agreed to this mission easily enough." Mara took her hands away and folded her arms. Sheftu grabbed her shoulders.

"You didn't hear my discussion with Pharaoh before he summoned you. I protested heavily."

"You protested an order from the King?"

"I protested the circumstances," Sheftu's thumbs moved over her shoulders, "I told him not to involve you."

"So, you planned to leave me alone and fight this mission by yourself?" Mara's temper was rising.

"I believed the King's words – there is a threat to Egypt. However, no threat is large enough for me to accept an order from Pharaoh to send you – alone – into danger." Sheftu's grip on her tightened, "After all we have been through, after almost losing you once, I could never – " Sheftu swallowed harshly, "I could never allow that."

"And how am I to feel?" Angry tears threated to fall, but Mara held them back. "You would dare risk your life without me, after I risked mine to save you before?"

Sheftu shook his head. "It is not the same thing, Mara."

"It is precisely the same!" Mara's voice cracked, and a tear escaped her eye. She wiped it away impatiently. "Even being on this ship is foolish enough! I don't believe your amulet could save you from the crocodiles – and yet you travel up and down the river –"

"It's the fastest way to travel," Sheftu cut in.

"-you don't give a wit about your own safety, choosing to risk your life endlessly for Pharaoh!"

"For Egypt!"

"Aye, for Egypt," Mara was wiping away more tears, "but what would become of Egypt if she lost her hero? Who else but you would die for her?"

"You almost did," Sheftu whispered, pulling her into his lap, "and you are risking doing it now, voluntarily."

"I hardly volunteered, I was ordered by our King," Mara sighed, "I wish I could go alone…"

"I wouldn't hear of it!" Sheftu huffed.

"I don't like you traveling by boat, Sheftu…" she paused, fiddling with his collar and avoiding eye contact, "to risk your life among the crocodiles...Sheftu, I only ask one thing…"

"What is it, Mara?"

"Value your own life. Don't throw it away like date stems or stale wine." Mara finished with his collar and rested her hands on his neck, gazing up into his serious face. "I know you love your King and Egypt, but I love you more than any of that, and _my_ Egypt isn't complete without _you_!"

He looked down at her, studying her face, the pleading expression and lingering tears in her sapphire eyes.

Sheftu gathered her closer, pressing her body and lips into his. Mara's breath hitched from her earlier crying, then settled into a shaky exhale. Sheftu's arms were around her, his hands warming her shivering body with caresses. His kiss was hard and ardent, his embrace near squeezing. When Sheftu broke the kiss, they were both panting.

"Mara…it is the same for me." Sheftu's forehead rested against hers, "I do value my life, as long as you are in it. I couldn't let you fight this on your own. Even the thought tore me apart." He kissed her again, then said, "You are my Egypt. To lose you would mean losing the world."

She couldn't reply with words – there were none good enough, in Egyptian or Babylonian. Mara's hand rested on his cheek. Her thumb traced the stubble on his jaw and stroked his warm skin. She kissed his other cheek, then his jaw, then his earlobe. With her free hand, she pushed under his headcloth to run her fingers through his wild hair. She drew back to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft. She wanted to touch him all over, hold him forever. It seemed unfathomable that there was once a time when she wouldn't dare touch him at all – not above the occasional brushing of an arm or touch of the shoulder, anyway.

His arms around her were more than comforting, they were exciting and perfect. She was safe and home in them. Moments passed…by and by, his hands moved up and down her sides. His eyes grew heavy with something extra, something hungry. Mara flushed as Sheftu's hands drifted closer to sensitive areas, not quite touching them, just teasing along a breast or hovering above her bottom. Mara's breath caught and she licked her lips, lowering her eyes. Sheftu's hand slipped under her gown, traveling up her thigh.

"Mara," Sheftu murmured. She peeked up at him shyly now. His own face was reddened, though he did not appear one bit bashful. "Mara, do you know what the most difficult part of this mission will be?"

"What part?" Mara breathed, barely audible, as Sheftu's hands continued.

"Pretending we aren't married," Sheftu whispered, "not being permitted to do this – " he kissed her neck while his hands roamed over her, eliciting a small sound from Mara. She removed his headcloth, freeing his waves and curls, which she had grown to love as much as the rest of him. He paused and shivered as Mara scratched his scalp lightly. When she scratched around his ears he almost drooled down her neck.

"You like that?" Mara said softly.

"Mmm…" Sheftu replied. She petted him, letting her nails lightly grace over his head from his hairline to his neck. He swallowed audibly, his breath quickening. Mara's fingertips brushed down his neck and across his shoulders, pushing open his robe to feel his skin underneath. Sheftu kissed her, open mouthed this time. He pulled at her dress as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Likewise, Mara yanked on his robes, returning Sheftu's kiss with fervor. They were too busy to think of how long it would be before they again donned golden fabrics and rich jewels. The expensive treasures were forgotten and dumped on the floor as they enjoyed a love far more cherished – each other.


	7. Chapter 7

Nekonkh scanned the docks for _The Silver Beetle -_ he planned to board after they made port. He tried not to think about the mission. It broke his heart to hear of the newlyweds being sent once again into peril. He had hoped with all his might that Sheftu and Mara might have a moment of peace together, start a family, and live while they were young. Bitterest of all was that they had to put aside their relationship and act as indifferent business acquaintances, nothing more. Nekonkh huffed. _Those two couldn't hide their passion for each other any better than I can hide my nose from my face._ The way Sheftu's eyes followed the maid, the way Mara teased him…they were doomed. The sheer chemistry between them was enough to alert a crowd. Many a time he heard the jokes of the other rivermen when visiting the Falcon;

"Don't even bother talkin' to Lady Lotus Eyes – it's clear she's Sashai's girl."

"What I wouldn't give to hear _her_ orders!"

"I'll wager I know what kind of orders he gives to her…"

"Perhaps he's the one takin' orders! You see the way he scampers over to her as soon as she shows up?"

Nekonkh smiled dryly at the memories. Back then it was no matter if folks at the tavern suspected their relationship – Sheftu's identity was a secret and Mara was no one important. They were free to sit shoulder-to-shoulder in the corner of a cubicle, whispering and laughing together over date wine. It was even permissible that they often left together – and Nekonkh had mistakenly found himself privy to more than one romantic encounter in the courtyard. He would never forget the first night, when he was waiting by the gate of the courtyard, ready to perform his duty as escort and boatman, when a quick glance over his shoulder revealed a shocking scene of Sheftu holding Mara in his arms. They were too far away to overhear, but their silhouette – two youths pressed together until they were one against the night sky – conveyed the incensed message with more fervor than their mouths would yet admit.

Nekonkh's immediate reaction was fear. He knew Sheftu to be good, but he was also dangerous. And Mara was naught but a little, friendless thing, trapped in the throws of a political scheme she had no power over. Nekonkh fretted over the idea that Sheftu would not only use her for his schemes, but also in the worst way that young, powerful men were so often abusing maids' hearts. What if Mara fell in love, and then Sheftu took advantage – even more advantage than he already was? If Mara loved him, Sheftu could even get the girl in trouble, the kind of trouble that would bring a baby, and cost Mara her position in the palace. Fury quickly mounted in Nekonkh's fatherly heart.

But then reasoning took over, as it often did in Nekonkh's intense moments. Sheftu holding the maid expressed more tenderness than anything, and though Sheftu was a rogue, he had never struck the captain as lecherous. Never before had he witnessed Sheftu's eyes wandering to pretty maids, despite their abundance at the Falcon. And his interest in Mara, regardless of how hard Sheftu tried to disguise it as "just business" was the brand of obsession befitting a love-sick schoolboy, not anything perverse.

 _Best not interfere,_ Nekonkh had told himself, _Sheftu is a man of honor. He won't abuse the poor maid._

After that night Nekonkh had made sure to give the couple extended privacy by waiting for Mara out of sight. And yet it still never escaped his notice that Mara's breath came quicker after speaking with Sheftu, and her pretty face sometimes flushed a soft pink under the torchlight. Likewise, Sheftu would frequently grow preoccupied before his meetings with Mara, but snap to attention at the mention of her name. Most telling was the way their eyes lingered on each other, always furtively when the other wasn't looking, then darting away the instant they were caught.

 _Aye,_ Nekonkh sighed, running his hands over the smooth wood of the rail, _those two are utterly hopeless._ Finally, he spotted his ship. He docked and gave his orders to the crew, who all exited the barge, seeking food or some other comfort the town had to offer. Nekonkh procrastinated disturbing Sheftu and Mara, who he knew were below deck somewhere, by recounting the plan in his mind. They were first to find this Inn the King's messenger was supposedly occupying. The next day they would change ships here in Abydos. Sheftu and Mara would board in plain clothes, as middle-class colleagues. Nekonkh would be introduced to them as if for the first time. A new crew would be working with Nekonkh on the rest of the journey to Cairo, all the members from Abydos and strangers to Mara and Sheftu. Once they reached Cairo, Nekonkh would wait on the riverbanks for messages to deliver to the King. He wouldn't be able to join Sheftu and Mara on their long journey by land to Canaan.

The sun sat low in the sky, it was nearly dusk. He didn't want to risk the new crew growing restless and abandoning their posts on the ship for the many taverns and brothels to be enjoyed ashore. Nekonkh dragged himself below deck to summon Sheftu and Mara. He paused at their door, then knocked softly. The door creaked open and revealed two young Egyptians in plain clothes, holding each other. Not a trace of the palace life was left, aside from Sheftu's vague tan-lines where his golden arm-bands previously rested. He sat on the edge of the bed, Mara on his knee, her face buried against his neck. She hadn't heard Nekonkh enter the room, perhaps her hearing was muffled between the fabric of Sheftu's headcloth and robes. But Sheftu had heard and his eyes met Nekonkh's over Mara's shoulder.

"Pardon me," Nekonkh cleared his throat sheepishly, "I hate to disturb ye, but we are docked and need to be gettin' ashore. I have to get on the Beetle, and you two –"

"We know what we need to do," Sheftu murmured. Mara looked to Nekonkh, then back at Sheftu, wistfully.

"Captain," Sheftu said, his eyes on Mara, "Give us but two more minutes. I want one more kiss from my bride."

Nekonkh obeyed, waiting outside the door. At last the two emerged. Nekonkh led the way to the docks, glancing about to make sure they weren't being observed. Sheftu squeezed his arm in gratitude before disappearing with Mara into town, twilight settling around them. Nekonkh shuffled over to _The Beetle_ and only had a moment to smile once more at the memories before swinging himself onboard and barking out his orders for the upcoming voyage.

Sheftu dared not hold Mara's hand in public now, though he was severely tempted. The crowd was jostling and tight, making it a task to avoid separation from Mara. He kept glancing behind him to check she was keeping up, and every time he was met with her determined, fierce expression as she wove through the crowd like an eel through a thicket of reeds. Together they reached the Inn of Nine Lives, which was deep in town and apparently popular as it was bursting at the seams with music and laughter. Sheftu walked ahead, holding the door open for Mara. They approached the bar, where an elderly man stood cleaning goblets and making small talk with a few guests.

"Excuse me, but is there a way I could get a room for tonight?" Sheftu asked.

"Aye, I wager I could find a room for ye" the barkeep smiled broadly, "and for a competitive price!"

Sheftu turned to Mara, who stepped forward. "Is there a room for me, too?" She said.

The barkeep's grin wavered in confusion. "Why'll ye be stayin' away from your man here?" He looked at Sheftu, "Did y'get yourself in trouble young man?" He didn't wait for Sheftu to answer but guffawed loudly over his own joke.

"Unfortunately, this beautiful lady is not mine," Sheftu's smooth voice interrupted the barkeep's laughs. "She is my translator, we are on a journey to Canaan."

"To Canaan?" The barkeep whistled while setting down clean goblets and pouring wine, "That is mighty far! Not to worry, young man, you have plenty of time to woo this lovely flower who translates for ye." He winked and Sheftu smiled, giving Mara a glance that made her cheeks burn.

"Jokes aside, welcome to my Inn! My name is Ganto. I'll show ye to your rooms."

They followed him through a few large, crowded rooms, into a small corridor with four doors. He opened the first one for Sheftu and ushered him inside. Sheftu examined the surroundings while Mara was shown into the room next-door. The rooms were small and simple – plain furniture with neat and clean bedlinens.

Ganto spoke from the hall, "I'll just be needin' your names now for me books."

"Rasha, a humble palace accountant. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Sheftu said, his manner reassuring and easy. Mara thought quickly of a fake name to give.

"My name is Nessie," Mara said, remembering her little slave in the palace, "I'm a hired interpreter."

"Glad to meet you both! I will be marking your names down. Now what is your order for dinner?"

"What do you recommend, friend?" Sheftu said.

"My wife is making a hearty stew tonight – should I put ye both down for a bowl?"

"Please. We look forward to it."

"Aye, you won't be regrettin' your choice! Okay, I will leave ye to settle in, be sure to come into the dining hall when you're hungry!"

When Ganto was gone, Sheftu closed the door to his room and strode into Mara's. She was settling the small items she had brought with her onto a table in the corner. He gave her the lightest of caresses, just letting his fingers graze over her back. Mara gasped.

"Come, Little One. We must find Bhetosh." Sheftu whispered.

"Aye," came Mara's shaky reply.

They entered the dining hall and were served their bowls of stew. Sheftu fought hard against his usual urge to gaze at Mara and instead let his eyes wander about the room. This inn was boisterous and dimly lit, with several large parties of drunks singing together about old times. The room was so packed it was difficult to identify the separation of groups, everyone blended together in one massive chaos.

"This stew is delicious," Mara commented, drawing his attention. She sat across from him, fully devoted to her bowl. She took a large bite and some of the meat's juices ran down her chin. Mara caught the dripping with the back of her hand and deftly wiped her chin clean, licking her fingers with satisfaction. Sheftu's mouth watered, but not from the enticing stew. He took a steadying breath, reminding himself he couldn't touch her, wouldn't dare ruin this mission (on the first night!) by jumping across the table and tearing Mara's clothes off, kissing her wet lips and –

"How is everything? Could I interest you youngsters in one of our house-made ales?" Ganto appeared cheerily bearing a tray of humble cups filled with foamy liquid. Sheftu sat back, the carnal fantasies fizzling out in his mind as Mara accepted a drink and Ganto inquired about the taste of his wife's stew. Mara chattered enthusiastically about the meal, her eyes alive and dazzling as usual. Sheftu had better control of himself by the time the innkeeper got around to asking his opinion of the stew.

"It is the best I ever tasted, this side of the Nile." Sheftu said, taking a bite. It was indeed quite good.

"Oh, I will tell her ye said that!" Ganto grinned widely before another patron called his attention to the bar. As he walked away Sheftu again searched the room for any sign of a striped headcloth. There were several with a single stripe, but Sheftu imagined the King had meant a headcloth with many stripes. At the bar there was a group of noisy men playing hounds and jackals. The lighting was so poor that Sheftu couldn't see the headcloth of the man furthest away. He leaned forward, squinting.

It wasn't Bhetosh. Sheftu sighed, clicking his tongue in disappointment. He was beginning to fear they would never find the elusive messenger. What if he had already left? It was possible he was halfway to Cairo already.

"Is that him?" Mara said, tapping Sheftu's arm and pointing with her spoon to a man sat in a booth with a young woman…with whom he was steadfastly making love – nearly – for all to see. The man matched the King's description perfectly – though he was seated it was clear he was a tall man, and his shoulders were wide and strong. Atop his head was a striped headcloth. The woman he was with grasped him tightly as he kissed her.

"I believe that might be him," Sheftu spoke slowly, his mind halted. Of all things, this was least expected.

"Well, we can't go speak to him now," Mara grumbled.

"Nay, I wouldn't want to interrupt him." Sheftu agreed with her.

"But we will have to at some point."

"Aye, you speak truth, Little One. But for now, let him enjoy himself. Have empathy. I would hate to be interrupted when I am in a similar state with you."


	8. Chapter 8

Sheftu had just finished speaking when another woman approached the kissing couple. She barreled a drink at the pair, shocking them apart with a shower of liquid.

"You son of a thousand jackals!" She spat.

Bhetosh scrambled to his feet, sputtering and panicked.

"Aminah! This is not what it seems!" Bhetosh cried. The girl with him frowned, wiping herself dry with a cloth.

"Not what it seems? It seems you think me a fool! You think I would believe your lies? Again?!"

"Who is this woman?" The other girl said.

"I'm no one!" Aminah glared at Bhetosh, "I am no one to him. He makes that clear often. Well, I learned my lesson this time, Bhetosh. Enjoy your tavern wench. I'm finished with you!" Aminah tossed her head and marched away.

"Aminah, wait!" Bhetosh tried to follow, but the girl he was with held his arm and said quietly, "You didn't tell me you were spoken for."

"She doesn't live with me," Bhetosh sighed, as though that explained everything.

"I'm going home," the girl said dryly. She tidied the table and left Bhetosh to slump into his seat and stare at his ale. The Inn had quieted during the argument but picked up the noise and chatter twice-fold after the drama subsided. Mara and Sheftu exchanged amused glances.

"Now should we speak to him?" Mara said.

"It's as good a time as any."

Sheftu slid out of his chair, approached Bhetosh's booth, and was directly cut-off by a woolen cloaked figure.

"You have eluded me for the last time, Bhetosh!" The man hissed as he sat opposite Bhetosh. Sheftu hesitated, then returned to his seat to watch the scene with Mara.

"Great Amon," Bhetosh groaned, rubbing his face, "not now, you insufferable weedle. I have your gold, I just need to pick it up in Cairo."

"That's what you said yesterday and the day before, but I still have seen you here!" The cloaked man slammed his fist down on the table.

"I promise thee!" Bhetosh was losing patience, "I leave in the morning for Cairo!"

"Why should I believe your lies? You think me a fool?"

At this repetition, the Inn quieted again, ears focused on the juicy happenings.

"I do, but it has nothing to do with any lies!"

The following actions happened so quickly, Sheftu couldn't distinguish who threw the first punch, but next moment the men were brawling. Ganto came stomping over and pushed them out of the Inn so they could settle their fight in the street. Sheftu and Mara followed casually, so as not to appear associated.

Bhetosh was losing the fight. The other man smashed a piece of pottery over his head and Bhetosh staggered drunkenly. He attemped a kick but tripped himself and landed harshly on his backside. The other man lunged for more, but Sheftu caught his arm in his famous iron grasp.

"That is enough, my friend." Sheftu said.

"And just who might you be? Swineherd! Why do you interfere with another man's business?" The man struggled against Sheftu's grip but gained no victory.

"How much does he owe?" Sheftu's voice was even and calm.

"Ha! You think can pay for him? It's one hundred deben! Now what say you?"

"Nessie, in my sash is a key. Retrieve this key and go to my room. Upon the small table is my coin purse. Bring it now, please." Sheftu directed this to Mara, who stepped forward and obeyed quickly. She returned with his coin purse and Sheftu instructed her to open it and count out one hundred deben.

"For our kind friend, here," Sheftu smiled without joy. Bhetosh was silent as he watched the exchange of money. Sheftu loosed the man, who gaped in wonder at the money in his hands before whispering, "Well…by all the gods…thank you and goodnight, gentlemen." He turned and strode up the street.

"Thank you! Kind stranger! How can I ever repay you?" Bhetosh had turned to Sheftu and knelt before him, bowing low.

"Rise, fool." Sheftu had that air of boredom mixed with danger that so often came over him. Bhetosh clumsily rose, standing at about the same height as Sheftu. Mara looked between them and realized they were close in age, as well, though Sheftu looked less weathered and worn out. However, tired and worn though he was, Bhetosh was devastatingly handsome.

"We are here on order of the King. You remember your message, I presume."

Bhestosh stood a little straighter, "Aye! I do!"

"Well it has changed," Sheftu said, "now instead of a single maid, it will be me and this lady here, understand?"

"Aye! I have it. You and your wife." Bhetosh nodded eagerly. Sheftu and Mara let out exasperated sighs.

"We aren't married," Mara said.

"We are colleagues," Sheftu motioned between himself and Mara, "She is my translator."

"But you're together?" Bhetosh grinned.

"No! Damn you! Are you paying attention?" Sheftu was losing patience.

"Great Amon, is this who the King uses for messages?" Mara whispered.

"Forgive me, I meant no insult," Bhetosh held his hands up, "You just seem to be together, that's all. I was mistaken."

"No offense is taken," Sheftu smoothed the air with his calm voice, regaining his composure, "I would be lucky to marry such a beauty as this lotus blossom, but alas, we remain apart. Though I am curious, what made you think she was mine?"

"Why, you move together as one, like lovers do." Bhetosh scratch his head sheepishly. "But, I suppose I was being presumptuous."

"Perhaps you are more observant than we gave credit…" Mara chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully, "It is not presumptuous to use your wits, though occasionally you may make false assumptions."

"In this case, I am glad of my mistake," Bhetosh gave Mara a lazy smile, boyish and flirty. His eyes travelled the length of her body appreciatively. Sheftu observed this with private annoyance made doubly worse by his inability to do anything about it. Mara narrowed her eyes.

"Shall we spend the evening together, fair one? What do they call you?" Bhetosh purred, reaching for Mara's hand.

"Nessie. And I think not. I have much to prepare for the mission, and you need to ride on to Cairo to deliver the King's message." Mara took her hand away.

Bhetosh reached out for her again. "The mission and message can wait but one evening. One so lovely as you should not spend the night alone in a cold bed." He was wearing a brash smirk, overconfident – as though he was used to women melting for him.

"That's quite enough," Sheftu placed a hand on Bhetosh's shoulder, "one must respect a lady's choice, and Nessie has already refused you."

"Aye, or is it that you hope to win your chance with her?" Bhetosh laughed.

"Get thee gone now, you must ride at once to Cairo. Tell them to expect Nessie, a Babylonian translator, and Rasha, a palace accountant in about a fortnight. These are the King's orders." Sheftu said.

"Can a man not have a drink first?"

"Tonight we have seen you approached by first a woman you scorned and second by a debt collector. What more could you possibly have in store for this evening? Make haste! The King has given orders!"

Bhetosh sighed petulantly, then gave Mara's backside a caress as he walked past her. Mara whirled and slapped his shoulder, hard. Bhetosh laughed again and winked at her before slinking away.

Mara turned to Sheftu and he was still as stone, quiet rage written on his face.

"What could Thutmose see in him?" Mara shook her head in wonder.

"I care not, I will put my first in his gut someday. The bastard!"

Sheftu glanced about the alleyway to ensure their privacy then held Mara's chin and kissed her mouth. When she responded he moved his hand to rest on her neck and wound his other around her waist, pulling her close against him. He broke the kiss to breathe, "it's torture not to touch you. I hate telling others you don't belong to me."

"I belong to no one," Mara murmured, smiling.

Sheftu laughed quietly and kissed her again. Mara relaxed in his arms, succumbing to Sheftu's spell as usual. His mouth was like velvet, his lips so full and soft against hers, his skill with tilting his head at a precise angle, his rhythm, his pace - everything about Sheftu's kisses was a perfect recipe for losing one's senses.

Sheftu marveled at how every time he kissed Mara it felt like the first time. He had kissed other maids before her, but never had he experienced the rush of blood, heat, and need that came from even the smallest peck with Mara. When his mouth connected with hers, it was like a crack of thunder sounded through his heart, his blood pumping loudly in his own ears, lightening behind his eyes. It was dazzling, dizzying, addictive.

There was a sound behind them. Sheftu loosed Mara abruptly, stumbling away from her. Mara turned to the side, wiping her wet mouth on the back of her wrist.

"Oh, you two are still here?" It was Bhetosh again. He was holding in one hand a small bag, and in the other, the hand of yet another young woman. His eyes drank in the scene before him, noting the flustered movements. "Pray," a slow smile was spreading across Bhetosh's face, "did we interrupt something?"

Sheftu sighed as if he didn't have time for this conversation. "Nay, nothing more than our discussion over the plans, which I see you are already neglecting."

"But I saw you," Bhetosh laughed, "you moved apart. And Rasha, you have a lotus petal stuck to your headcloth. Same as the one in Nessie's hair – I wonder how that happened?" The girl beside Bhetosh giggled while he spoke.

Sheftu's blood stirred as he tried to weigh his options. What to do? Admit anything to Bhetosh? Kill him? Bribe him?

"You have a strong imagination," Mara said, "I merely lost a bead to my shawl and Rasha was kind enough to help me reattach it. We had to stand close to get the bead in place, and my lotus is always losing petals." Mara dragged the flower from her hair and shook a few loose petals to the ground. Sheftu was relieved Mara sounded so reasonable and honest. She had always been a good liar.

Bhetosh's smile faded and he nodded, looking down. "Ah, so it was." He reddened slightly. The maid with him stared away with boredom, unimpressed.

"The hour grows late, I think we should retire to be ready for our voyages in the morning." Sheftu said resolutely, "Bhetosh, do get on your way already."

" _Haii_ , I will depart soon!" Bhetosh waived his hand, dismissively, "good night, friends!"

Sheftu and Mara walked inside and found their corridor. They did not risk another ambush by kissing goodnight. Instead they held each other in a gaze of longing before slipping into their respective rooms. Sheftu flopped onto his bed and groaned.

 _This messenger is an idiot_ , he thought, _where on earth did Thutmose find him_? For an idiot he was highly observant. Sheftu wondered at how few details had escaped Bhetosh's notice. It had been quite the feat to hide his relationship with Mara, and Sheftu had been ten thousand kinds of a fool to kiss her in the alleyway, risking everything. His heart pounded at the memory. How stupid was he? Abandoning all reason and making love to Mara just anywhere? What was it about her that made him weaker in the moonlight, helpless against his body's urges to touch her? He recalled with a shiver the warm wetness of her mouth and her full, sensuous lips. In the short weeks he had spent as her lover and husband, Sheftu had kissed her possibly one hundred times over, but he still was hungry, as if he had never touched her. Even now his body was tense, pulsing, desperate for her. He craved her like a drowning man craves air. He lay back on his bed and buried his face in the pillow, moaning in frustration.

Mara fell asleep quickly from pure exhaustion. Sometime later, she awoke in feral, instinctive fear. There was another person in her room. The candle was snuffed, she couldn't see who it was, but the other person's breaths were audible, along with their footsteps. Mara focused on remaining still, she didn't want her intruder to guess she was awake. The footsteps made their way to the corner of the room. As Mara's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw it was a large man, a familiar man. She squinted her eyes. _Ganto_?

It was he. Ganto rummaged through her effects, searching for something – _probably money_ , Mara mused. She sighed inwardly. Ganto had seemed like a nice enough man, and it was always disappointing when these types revealed themselves to be scoundrels. Her fear dissipated to annoyance.

"If it's more money you're after, why not charge extra for the room?" Mara spoke into the darkness. Ganto tensed, frozen with momentary shock. Then he turned toward her.

"Why, Little One, I was not looking for money! I merely came to see how you are enjoying your stay!" His voice held none of the earlier warmth and gaiety, instead it was shaken and unreliable.

"Indeed," Mara said dryly, "I would enjoy it much more if I were left to experience it in solitude. Is it your habit to visit your guests while they sleep?"

"N-Nay, sweet Nessie! That is to say – sometimes – ah – if I feel a g-guest needs my assistance – "

"Get out." Sheftu's livid voice pierced the darkness, quiet and dangerous from the doorway. How Sheftu knew about this, Mara hadn't a clue. Ganto didn't move, he was terrorized, shocked. Sheftu stepped into the room, his dagger drawn.

"Get out _now_ ," Sheftu hissed, "unless you wish to taste my dagger down your throat."

"I know y-ye be…not who ye say ye are!" Ganto stuttered. Sheftu drew closer, smiling.

"Then please, friend, enlighten us both. Who are we?" Sheftu's gentle tone only made him more frightening.

"Th-There were people who loved the late Pharaoh, I know sh-she had spies."

"You think we are spies?" Sheftu murmured, his smile widening.

"This Inn has some suspicious guests!" Ganto swallowed, "and with you two and your…act, so to speak, I reckon ye be spies. I owe it to our current Pharaoh to make sure ye ain't hatching plans!"

"What act?" Mara quipped.

"Why, it's plain there is something afoot. Y'said yer not together, and it may be true, but I think ye go back further than this journey."

"We both worked in the palace," Sheftu said casually, "we knew each other."

"I s-saw you follow that Bhetosh fellow," Ganto said, "I see him here often and he is a man I wonder about."

"What do you want from us?" Sheftu said sharply, dropping the amiable front.

"You found no proof, did you?" Mara said, "you searched my room but found nothing, so now what will you do?"

"Why…" Ganto was breathing hard, "why, n-nothing!" he made for the door, but Sheftu was blocking it.

"How can we be sure you won't be spreading any of your foolish theories to other ears?" Sheftu said quietly.

"I swear by – "

Ganto's plea was cut short by a giggle in the corridor. All ears listened as two whispering voices were heard, coming closer.

"I'll make you moan all night long, I promise thee," one said.

"Have mercy on a maid, I indulged you thrice tonight already," the other said, a laugh slipping out. Suddenly there was a thud and the sound of two mouths connecting, soft moans, and rustling of fabric. Then ragged breaths.

"Three times is only the beginning. I have a long journey ahead of me, I need to get my fill of you before I depart!" the male voice growled, and in the darkness it wasn't visible what he did to his female companion, but all ears heard her squeal and giggle.

"Bhetosh!" said the maid, excitement in her tone. Sheftu and Mara held their breath. _Again?_ – was their mutual thought. Just then, the couple stumbled into the doorway, too busy kissing to realize where they were going. Upon colliding with Sheftu the girl gasped, cried out, and Bhetosh instinctively whirled to place his body before hers, protecting her.

"We meet again," Sheftu sighed. Mara stepped forward, sharing the doorway with Sheftu.

Bhetosh relaxed and smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness.

"Sleeping together?" Bhetosh said with amusement. The girl with him moved, snaking her arm to hook elbows with him.

"Nay," Sheftu sounded tired. He rubbed his forehead.

"I had an unexpected visitor," Mara said, gesturing toward Ganto.

"Ganto?"

"Aye," Ganto stepped forward, "and now I want to be askin' ye, how do ye know each other? I know ye be working together! Bhetosh is always in here, scheming and gambling, owing money to every man along the Nile, meeting a new maid every week…"

The girl with Bhetosh gave him a sharp glance.

"I saw ye earlier, outside the Inn, doing business with the cloaked man. Only someone in close with ye would bail you out, Bhetosh."

"He thinks we are spies," Sheftu said this as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Spies?" Bhetosh huffed. Mara rejoiced he sounded as genuine as Sheftu. "These two are not spies, Ganto. This man, Rasha, is my brother!"

"Brother?" Ganto looked between the two. It was true, now Mara considered it, that Sheftu and Bhetosh had somewhat similar appearances. Both were tall, well-built men. And both were strikingly good-looking. The main difference was Bhetosh's friendly, boyish demeanor, as non-threatening as a puppy – a distinct contrast to Sheftu's suave charm.

Sheftu's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly but was noticed by Mara. His tone, however, conveyed nothing but honesty and calm, saying, "Yes, now can you understand? I am on a journey, it's true, but I stopped here deliberately to free my brother from debts. I would rather this information not be spread to others. My family's reputation is on the line, I'm sure you understand." Sheftu sounded annoyed, and gave Bhetosh a withering look.

Ganto stood dumbfounded, the information processing slowly in his mind. It was logical, even to Mara, she must admit.

"Yes, please don't tell our secret, Ganto," Bhetosh said, "our parents are ashamed of me enough as it is."

Ganto reddened, though no one could see in the darkness.

"I apologize," he said, "I didn't mean to intrude on a family matter." He awkwardly made to quit the room, this time Mara and Sheftu letting him pass. He stopped once in the hallway and bowed, his embarrassment tangible.

"We forgive you, as long as you remain silent on this matter." Sheftu said.

"Of course! I will never speak of it! May your honored parents rejoice…" he bowed again, retreating down the hall.

When he was gone, Sheftu turned to Bhetosh, "If I see your face again tonight, I will cut it to pieces."

Bhetosh blinked. "But I just came to your aide!"

"It was you who raised his suspicion to begin with!" Mara said.

Bhetosh chuckled, shrugging. "What can I do about it?"

"Get thee to Cairo as soon as you are able," Sheftu droned, weariness leaking into his voice.

"Aye! I will go at first light! You can count on me!"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I just want to thank you all for reading my story so far and for the lovely comments. Believe it or not, your comments really motivate me to keep writing. I'm glad you all love Mara as much as I do, and I hope you like where I decide to take their next adventures! But now, we need to get back to palace...enjoy! :-)

Inanni walked with her ladies in one of the many palace gardens. The morning air was cool and fragrant, the multiple lilies perfuming the winds. The ladies with her sighed happily and let the breeze catch in their shawls and wrappings.

A few weeks had passed since Sheftu and Mara departed for their wedding tour. An odd custom, Inanni reflected, but nonetheless she was glad for them. She glowed at the memory of their wedding day, the beautiful couple, side-by-side in the finest litter Egypt had to offer…. _Oh Ishtar_ , Inanni thought, _if I could but be half as happy someday…_

Inanni had cried tears of joy seeing her friend whisked away with the crowd cheering. For just the shortest of moments, Inanni had thought she had seen the same troubled look in Mara's eyes from before the turn in the revolution. A cold, tight feeling had formed in her stomach, but the next moment Mara was full of joy again, and Inanni dismissed her anxieties.

 _I wonder what Mara is doing right now,_ Inanni pondered, _at this hour, they may still will be in bed…_ Inanni blushed. She had been more than surprised when Mara had shared with her the loose legality of Egyptian marriages – that the only requirement be two individuals taking up residence together – and the information had quickened Inanni's heart ever since. Did this mean Thutmose was already her husband? Surely it was different for Pharaoh.

Regardless of Inanni's position at court, she was being taught Egyptian per Thutmose's request. Her tutor didn't speak much Babylonian, but she was making progress. Already she had mastered the hieroglyphics and several key phrases. She practiced her skills with Thutmose when she saw him, which was nearly every day. As she was already aware, Thutmose loved sketching vases. Now that Inanni could read and write the hieroglyphics, her enjoyment of his work increased.

A bolder move she had made recently was the adoption of more Egyptian clothing. Her ladies in waiting joined her in choosing white fabrics, light and gauzy as opposed to the typical heavy, bright colored woolen clothes worn in Syria. Inanni and her ladies chose to remain covered with headdresses and shawls, but with the breathable Egyptian fabrics. Inanni approached a pond in the garden, staring at her reflection in the water. The white flowy fabric cascading down from her dark curly head looked finer than the mists of a waterfall. She was pleased with the four lilies her ladies had arranged on one side of her forehead, each a soft pastel pink or cream. It wasn't the same as the beautiful flower-crowns she had made as girl, but she was starting to appreciate the differences in Egyptian fashion.

The click of the gate drew Inanni's attention. A palace servant strode toward her and spoke to her in Egyptian. She understood almost nothing he said, except for his mentioning of the King. This happened on a near-daily basis, and so by now Inanni had learned to know this situation meant she was being summoned buy Thutmose. She gestured to her women and they followed the servant to the palace. Inanni parted ways with her women in the corridor and walked to Pharaoh's apartments. The servant showed her inside, gave her the salute of respect, then left. Inanni stood alone in the King's drawing room. Upon the table were dozens of sketches, mostly of vases. Not wishing to be impertinent, Inanni wondered if it would be permissible to look over the King's sketches while she waited. He wasn't usually absent when she entered his chambers, so there was no way of knowing what he would and wouldn't allow.

Opting to look, but not touch, Inanni stepped closer to the table. She loved the sketches and always looked forward to seeing the King's innovative designs. Today there were several ornate vases, almost like the vases in Canaan. Inanni's eyes poured over the details, trying to read the phrases Thutmose had written on some of them. Presently her eyes spotted a scrap of papyrus half-covered by a sketch. On the scrap was a message. Inanni concentrated and read the hieroglyphics, "…spies on…ship…reach…Canaan in month…from, Bhetosh."

 _Canaan?_ Inanni thought, interest piqued. She reread the scrap, though still unable to understand some of the words. _Maybe if I could see the whole message I could understand better._ Inanni chewed her lip, hesitating. If the King walked in and discovered her reading his messages, he would surely be angry.

 _It isn't right!_ Inanni's conscience screamed, _this message is meant for Thutmose!_

But Inanni rationalized, _The message is about Canaan – it might concern me! Or my brothers! I won't tell him I looked…_

And Inanni moved the sketch to read more of the message. "Canaan's royal family…in terrible…conditions. Tyranny…torture…usurper is war-hungry…Egypt's spies on…ship…reach…Canaan in month…from, Bhetosh."

Inanni dropped the papyrus as though it had burned her. Stunned, she fell to her knees on the floor. The world swam before her, only the sound of her heartbeat in her ears connected her spirit to her body in that moment. Her breathing staggered into panting, tears plopping on the stone floor unchecked.

Her time in Egypt had been challenging – the homesickness and uncertainty often becoming too much to bear. The only comfort she had was the thought that her actions – becoming a bride for the prince (and now King) of Egypt – were bringing honor, pride, and financial comfort to her family and country. She had always imagined her family in a state of cheer and leisure, remembering her with warm gratitude during their nightly toasts.

Instead it was for nothing. Her father usurped, her family in "terrible" conditions! And all while Inanni had been pampering herself with fine Egyptian indulgences such as muslin and sheer linens, her family was suffering. Her mental picture of "home" shattered, and her heart with it, as she wept on Pharaoh's floor.

/

Thutmose snapped his fingers and his manservant fastened the golden collar around his throat. The collar was Thutmose's favorite, only because it was quite comfortable. His other jewels were too heavy for the typical Egyptian heat.

 _Inanni probably prefers something with more color,_ he thought with a wry smile. He was to meet with the Princess of Canaan again momentarily, as was beginning to be a daily custom. Thutmose adjusted the cobra on his brow, then left to seek the drawing room, where the princess was awaiting him.

A servant opened the door for him, and at first glance Thutmose thought the princess to be absent. But then he heard a muffled sob and looked to the floor. Inanni was there, weeping.

Thutmose froze, so unexpected was the sight before him. Then he strode quickly to her and bent, asking, "What happened? What is amiss?"

Inanni started at the sound of his voice, looking up at him with her large, dark eyes, now overflowing with streams of tears.

"M-Majesty," she managed to say, "Forgive me, I – " she broke off, more tears gushed forth and she hid behind her thin veil, wiping them away.

"What is it?" Thutmose lowered himself to one knee, reaching for one of her hands. She shrank away, her voice wavering as she said, "You'll be angry, but I couldn't help myself – p-please understand!"

"Princess," Thutmose took her hand this time, "what do you speak of?"

"M-My King," Inanni said through fresh tears, "I r-read one of your m-messages…it was about my f-family." She couldn't look at him, she shook beneath her draperies and covered her face with her free hand. The King sighed, realizing immediately the message to which she was referring. On an impulse he pulled her into his arms, guiding her head to his shoulder. He had never held a woman before, but this seemed to be the right occasion.

Inanni was stiff and barely breathing, her tears temporarily stopped, and now that she was so close to him, Thutmose could feel her pounding heart.

"I'm not angry," he said quietly. When she didn't relax, he tried stroking her long hair, though it was covered with muslin. "Perhaps I should have told you sooner," he murmured.

The princess took a sharp breath, and Thutmose heard her whisper, "How long have you known?"

"Not long, a few weeks." There was a pause.

"Why wasn't I told?" Inanni's voice was thick with emotion again.

"I didn't want to cause you undue panic. I have some plans underway to restore your family to their place as the rightful monarchs. Everything might be solved soon."

"Where is my family?"

Thutmose took a deep breath, then sighed on the exhale, saying, "I believe they are being held prisoner."

Inanni sobbed, sagging against him. He tightened his hold on her and tried his best to comfort her. _I shouldn't have told her so much,_ Thutmose thought, _this is exactly why I didn't get her involved from the beginning._ As someone with experience being a royal prisoner, Thutmose could empathize with the Canaanite royal family, and he knew they probably would want their sister/daughter aware of their strife. But though he couldn't explain it, the thought of upsetting the princess caused him great discomfort. In a perfect world the problem would be solved in a fortnight and no one would have to suffer. The king knew the princess hadn't come to Egypt happily, and he hadn't made any attempt to make her feel welcome until perhaps recently. If he could do one thing right by her, it would be to save her loved ones. Then he would extend her the option to choose for herself – a life in Egypt or return home safely to her kinsmen.

The princess clung to him, wetting his robes with her tears. As his arms held her soft body, he felt a flicker of a new type of remorse through his consciousness as he remembered his words to Mara upon first meeting Inaani – calling the princess fat and reacting with childish disgust. How differently he felt now. Was it her devotion to him that altered his heart? Or maybe it was her sweet, genuine smile. Regardless, the king presently felt pangs of regret at the memories of mistreating Inanni and judging her before learning how kind and giving she was.

It was not often that Thutmose reflected on his actions with sorrow. As the rightful King of Egypt, he had divine entitlement to all his decisions and therefore made no mistakes, so to speak. So far in life his meticulous plans had begotten success after success. But now, as the king knelt on his stone floor, holding the weeping princess, he knew in his heart he had been cruel to an innocent, put vanity before sincerity, and were it not for this pitiful maiden, he would not even be King. He owed her so much…

"Princess," Thutmose said, his heart full, "Inanni…"

Inanni went rigid at the sound of her name, hiccoughing from her arrested sobs.

"Your family will be freed. Don't be afraid." Thutmose said the words softly, "I have sent my very best people, they will not fail."

The princess took a shaky breath. Her head still on his shoulder, she whispered into his ear, "Who is it?"

Thutmose nuzzled her and put his mouth to her ear as well. "Sheftu and Mara."


	10. Chapter 10

That night, Inanni listened to the sounds of her ladies sleeping before quietly slipping out of the chamber. She stood in the dressing room, eyes traveling over the neat chests bearing precious Syrian garb. Somewhere in her mind, a plan was beginning to take shape.

Her entire life, Inanni had obeyed others. She was pampered royalty but had less freedom than some of Egypt's slaves. Still, Inanni's family loved and protected her. She returned their love deeply and so willingly agreed to abide by her father's arrangement with Pharaoh. Inanni felt a lump form in her throat as she pictured her father, saying goodbye, hugging her and wishing her all the best before she left for Egypt.

The love she felt for her father and brothers eclipsed the strict indoctrination of obedience within Inanni. Though she trembled and paced with fear, Inanni was determined to save them, no matter the odds.

The King had informed her that Sheftu and Mara were headed to her home to spy on the usurpers. He even explained the main particulars of their plan. Inanni was no political strategist, but she had a few concerns for which the king offered no account. All day she had pondered the ways their venture into Syria could go wrong, simply based on their ignorance of her country's customs.

She was past patiently waiting for others to solve life's problems. If she had learned anything from being Mara's friend, it was that she needed to take control and decide her own destiny. Now that her family was threatened, Inanni had to put aside her fears and do something!

But where to begin?

First, she needed to gather clothing. Mara would need to cover her body or else be tormented by the men in Canaan. Secondly, Inanni needed to find a swift way into Syria without being noticed as the princess.

Inanni took a small woven basket and filled it with a set of typical draperies and coverings. Next, she rummaged through the chest provided to her by the late Pharaoh when she had first arrived in Egypt. It contained several Egyptian dresses and accessories. Inanni took a deep breath. Looking Egyptian was her only hope at escaping Egypt unnoticed. Though the clothing and makeup was daunting, she had to try.

In the candlelight, Inanni arranged the pots and creams of Egyptian makeup before her, and with shaking hands, applied the stuff to her face. In thirty minutes she resembled every Egyptian teenaged maiden, with red lips and black-rimmed eyes.

To hide her long hair, Inanni wound it into a crown atop her head, then selected a wig from the chest. She expected the wig to be itchy but was pleasantly surprised that it was light and comfortable.

Most of the dresses were either too narrow or too showy for Inanni to brave, but at the bottom of the chest she uncovered something suitable. It was a simple white shift, looser than the others and belted by a pale red sash. Last were the sandals, which were not too different from her own. Inanni got dressed and examined her reflection in the soft candlelight as dawn broke. If one got very close to her, they might guess she was foreign, but from a few paces away, she looked like any other Egyptian.

A coin purse filled with deben she tucked into her sash, the last item needed for the journey ahead. In the pale light of morning, Inanni left a note for her women, with strict instruction to destroy the note after reading it, and to obey a list of steps should she be sent for or otherwise visited.

Inanni debated leaving a note for Thutmose. She didn't want him to know about her plan because he would surely stop her, but at the same time she didn't want to appear ungrateful for all he had provided to her during her stay in the palace. Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the realization that she was throwing away her chance to be with a man she might love. With a blush and beating heart Inanni recalled the warm comfort of Pharaoh's embrace the previous day. When it was happening, she had been so distraught over her family news that it hadn't registered in her mind that the King was holding her in his arms, touching her with his hands, and otherwise showing her more affection than she had ever known from a man. Now, as she paused in reflection, the memory – the scandal of it and yet the romantic comfort of it - burned her cheeks and ached in her heart. Before the tears could fall and her resolve falter, Inanni swung the basket onto her back and made her way out of the palace.

She was more terrified than she had ever been in her life. But by Ishtar, she was going to save her family, friends, and country!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Readers – I have to admit this chapter is not really at all like something you would find in MDotN (not that the rest of my fic holds up to anything written by McGraw). I just couldn't resist writing a chapter like this…I apologize if you hate it, just hang on for the next update, I will be switching gears and moving the plot along.

Sheftu lounged on the decks of the Silver Beetle, eyes closed against the rising sun. The lull of the lazy waves rocking the boat nearly rendered him asleep. In this position, it was easy for Sheftu to mentally turn back time to when he last journeyed on the Beetle. A smile crept in the corner of his mouth as he remembered the first time he held Mara in his arms, her upturned face scowling and indignant, her arms stiff and pushing against him. He sighed, the fierce blue of her eyes overwhelming him even in memory. Despite her rags and dusty appearance, Mara still stunned him with her singular beauty.

The current voyage was less pleasant than Sheftu pictured – the first morning Sheftu nearly stumbled overboard at the sight of that fool, that absolute bastard Bhetosh, leaning over his lovely wife in rapt conversation. Sheftu glanced about the ship, sure he was in a dream, some nightmare. He blinked, but Bhetosh remained. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but Bhetosh had chosen the Silver Beetle for his passage to Cairo, just like Sheftu and Mara. The coincidence was too much this time, and Sheftu had marched to Nekonkh's cabin, demanding to know why Nekonkh allowed this imbecile to board.

"He told me that you sent him!" Nekonkh had said, his brows raised.

Fourteen long days had passed, and now Sheftu was convinced Bhetosh was some form of jackal-headed devil sent to repay him for his misdeeds. While the mission was not at all palatable compared to life in his villa, Sheftu had somewhat looked forward to his time on the Beetle with Mara. There were challenges to consider, such as refraining from appearing too much like a couple lest the crew discover their real identities, but otherwise it would be days of conversation and flirtation with his beloved. However, after Bhetosh joined, the voyage was naught but a slew of frustrating encounters.

Mara slept in a small cabin during the nights while Sheftu and Bhetosh took the piles of hides along the deck. Bhetosh took every opportunity to test Sheftu's patience with talk of how he would try a new method of charming Mara the next day.

"Do you think she is getting sweet on me?" Bhetosh said one night, "I saw her laugh at my jests once or twice."

"Nay, she was probably laughing _at_ you," Sheftu muttered.

"Unlikely," Bhetosh continued, undaunted, "Nessie is too sweet to have such evil ways. You should study her character more, you will see. Tomorrow I will win her love for sure."

Sheftu had to endure these talks with Bhetosh more than he could stand. When Bhetosh wasn't babbling some nonsense about Mara or other women he believed were attracted to him, he was sweet talking Mara, bathing her in smiles and compliments while Sheftu simmered from a distance, sickening jealousy curling in his stomach every time Mara indulged him.

The morning was quiet, the banks of the Nile void of civilization for a stretch, animals waking up and starting their day. Sheftu sighed to himself, allowing a moment of self-pity over the mission, the voyage. How he longed to be at home with Mara, laughing, playing, and making her moan in his bed. It seemed years since he last touched her. An idea entered Sheftu's mind, and he almost dismissed it, but when he heard a loud snore from Bhetosh's stack of hides, it was enough to propel him onward. It was still early enough that Sheftu might not be spotted visiting Mara's cabin. He could give her a quick kiss, maybe a caress or two, just something to tide him over.

Sheftu's blood roared with anticipation, now his course was set. He was silent and swift as he descended below the deck, the darkness swallowing and hiding him. He came to Mara's cabin and eased the door open, slipping inside. There she was, curled up under a pile of blankets, black locks spread in all directions, her face soft and peaceful. Sheftu paused, his heart skipping a beat before he slid into the bed beside her. He gathered her to him, greedily. Mara woke with a silent start, then realizing it was her husband, eagerly pressed closer to him.

"Sheftu," she whispered, "how -?"

"Shh," Sheftu breathed against her hair, "I can't stay but a moment."

He pulled back enough to slant his mouth over hers, his fingers tangling in her hair in his haste. Mara's response was delayed but equally ardent, her own hands finding fistfuls of his dark hair. Their kiss was anything but chaste, tongues mingling and hands wandering. It was too much, Sheftu had been wrong, one kiss and a few caresses only further ignited the flames inside him. He would never be satisfied if he left it at that. Mara was so warm, so soft, so deliciously yielding against him. He deepened the kiss like a fool, knowing all too well it was a death sentence to his self-control. Mara sighed, setting his blood singing as she threw a leg over his hip. He tortured himself further by allowing his hand to travel her thigh, bare to the hip where her gown was rucked up. Sheftu swallowed Mara's hitches of breath as he pushed under the fabric of her gown.

Miserable anxiety spiked in the back of his mind, alarm bells ringing when he heard footsteps overhead. But his body disobeyed every command to stop, to disentangle himself from Mara and get out. Her skin was too smooth and her mouth too sweet for him to walk away now. Mara's response to his touch revealed she had no intention of being the cautious one, she was boneless and surrendered to him, moaning as his hand continued under her gown. Sheftu broke away from her lips to kiss along her neck, half-delirious with wanting to hear more of her sounds.

He knew he should stop, he knew he had overindulged himself and was risking everything, but with every kiss it was like a bandage being applied to a wound, every sigh from Mara's mouth a tonic, turning his blood thick and honeyed with hazy bliss. Mara was unwinding against him, panting as he kissed and teased her, her hands almost yanking his hair. Sheftu didn't relent, his senses overcome with a need for more, the repressed feelings of desire charging forth, demanding satisfaction.

"Sheftu," Mara whimpered, "Sheftu, I – " she cut herself off, arching her back as he found her clavicle with his lips. She gave up speaking and softly moaned instead. Sheftu kissed back up her neck to her cheek, pausing to gaze upon her. Great Amon, he had gone too far and yet still wanted more. Mara's half-open eyes sparkled deep sapphire against the pink flush of her cheeks, her lips swollen and wet – from his kisses. He was about to kiss her again when a knock suddenly sounded on the cabin door.

"Little One?" Nekonkh's concerned voice was muffled against the door, "I hate to wake you, but this Bhetosh fellow is lookin' around, I told him Sh – Rasha is busy with accounting work in my cabin, but…"

"Aye captain," Mara called to the doorway with false cheer, "I'm almost done with my makeup, tell Bhetosh to wait a minute more!"

"Of course," Nekonkh said, "Take your time." And his footsteps were heard retreating. Sheftu kept his boiling rage to himself as he removed the hand under Mara's gown and wrapped her tightly in his arms. Both hearts were hammering in their chests, Sheftu held Mara so close he felt them. She sighed again, despairingly this time, and he kissed the top of her head.

"I merely wanted to see you," Sheftu kept his voice low, "as husband and wife, not from a distance."

"I know," Mara murmured.

"I hate watching you with Bhetosh," he growled.

Mara giggled at that. "He's no worse than Reshed."

"Whom I would gladly feed to the crocodiles, don't forget."

"Were you really jealous of him?"

"Of course I was, you minx!" Sheftu pinched her backside and Mara wriggled away, smirking.

"You didn't let on, you lied to me when I asked you!"

"Absolutely. Can you imagine what might have happened if I had declared my affections for you on that night?" Sheftu smiled, his eyes playful.

"I can imagine, our King would still be a prince – I would have stopped your mission to the dark river." Mara gave him a small smile, her hand resting on his cheek. Sheftu covered her hand with his own and turned to kiss her palm.

"Oh Mara, if only we had more time…" He kissed her wrist, and Mara gently pulled away.

"I will freshen up, then find Bhetosh." Mara rose from the bed, Sheftu sat up, eyes following her.

"Aye, I can wait here until a signal from you, then I will slip away into Nekonkh's cabin. Bring Bhetosh and meet me there, we need to make it appear as though I was there all along."

"What should be the signal?"

"Stamp your feet three times above deck."

"Aye, I can do that, I'll pretend to see some beetle or other." Mara combed her hair quickly and touched up her makeup. When she was finished, she gave Sheftu a lingering glance before exiting the cabin.

Sheftu fell back into her bed, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scents of lotus flowers and honey that were unique to Mara. He held her pillow and sighed. He needed to regain his composure before she gave her signal, but it was so difficult when surrounded by her smell.

Thirty minutes later Mara walked with Bhetosh along the main deck, several honey cakes in her hands. She nibbled them absently while Bhetosh chatted to her, sipping juice from a cup.

"What do you think of Rasha?" Bhetosh said, watching her from the corner of his eye.

"He's a decent man," Mara said casually.

"How long have you known him?"

"Oh, maybe a year. Why do you ask?" Mara offered him a honey cake.

"You seem to know each other well," Bhetosh said with a mouth full of cake.

"Maybe I'm just friendly," Mara smiled.

"Not friendly enough! How many nights now have you allowed me to freeze on this miserable ship's decks with naught but a piece of cloth for blankets, while you lay all alone in that big soft bed?" Bhetosh whined, mock offense in his tone. Mara glowered at him, and he broke into a laugh. "Maybe it's this Rasha fellow you would rather host," Bhetosh continued, "I'm sure he wouldn't decline if you made him an offer."

"What kind of maid do you take me for?" Mara took a bite of honey cake, "I'm not obligated to lure men to my bed."

"You are correct, fair one, but a maid as beautiful as yourself should have some compassion – your blue eyes are like weapons against men!"

"Perhaps it is you men who should have some compassion on me," Mara quipped, "I never asked for what I was born with, and I am half-dead already with boredom from being daily reminded."

"Aye!" came a rough voice behind them, "Come now, young man, leave the maid alone a minute. Rasha would like words with you both." It was Nekonkh, carrying a flask of liquid and two loaves of bread.

They followed him to his cabin where Sheftu was brooding over some maps.

"Ah, good morning, honored friends." Sheftu said dryly as they entered the room. Nekonkh served up the bread and wine on another table and helped himself to a drink. Mara and Bhetosh shuffled over to the table where Sheftu was marking up the maps. Mara noted how collected Sheftu appeared to be now, not a trace of the desperate lust from before staining his cheeks.

"You were up early, mate," Bhetosh said.

"There are many plans to be confirmed," Sheftu looked up from his maps, "today we dock, and you will need to continue alone to carry your message to those who will receive us."

"It's a long way from Cairo, give me about three days head-start." Bhetosh pointed to a section of the map as he spoke. Sheftu nodded, and Mara said, "Be sure you don't wander off and ruin the plans."

"Me?" Bhetosh grinned, "What makes you think I would do such a thing?"

"What evidence have you given us to prove you would do anything but waste time and chase women?" Mara scolded.

"I have no need to chase women, I have you, sweet Nessie." Bhetosh winked. Sheftu disguised a growl by clearing his throat. Nekonkh spoke up, "What about me? Do I wait for your return here? Rasha and Nessie will remain here for a night or two, and then should I sail?"

"Wait for Bhetosh. He will carry a message back to our king after we leave for Syria." Sheftu said, returning his attention to the map. He was marking a path from Cairo to Canaan, dotting the places he planned to stop along the way.

"Have you travelled this way before?" Mara asked, leaning over the map. Sheftu's arm brushed hers for but a moment and she shivered.

"Once, when I was a lad. My father took me with him for some business," Sheftu's voice was soft, then he glanced at Bhetosh and added, "Father had trade accounts to settle – I was his apprentice at the time."

Mara burned to know more, but Sheftu was artful as ever with his secrets when Bhetosh was present. She made a mental note to ask him more about this later.

Bhetosh poured himself a large cup of wine, gulping it down and belching afterward. "So," Bhetosh stuffed a chunk of bread in his mouth, "let's go over the route."

Hours of arguing later, they had a plan laid. However, Bhetosh became so drunk he had to lie down on his bunk of hides and sleep off the alcohol. Nekonkh stared at Bhetosh with a deep frown.

"Are you sure the King trusts him?" he said quietly to Sheftu, careful none of the crew was listening. Sheftu was beyond anger and regarded Bhetosh with worn disappointment.

"Apparently he has qualities to redeem his idiocy…though I have yet to witness them."

"Does it anger you the way he…flirts with Mara?" Nekonkh said this even lower.

"Captain, I don't know anyone named Mara and haven't noticed any flirting," Sheftu sharply replied, though his expression betrayed the truth – _yes_ , he was angered by all the flirting.

"Aye, of course, I don't know what I was thinking," Nekonkh said quickly, "an old man like myself easily confuses memories and dreams."

"Take care you don't confuse yourself in the wrong company," Sheftu commented blandly, turning away from the sleeping Bhetosh and striding to the other side of the ship. Nekonkh followed him.

"Listen," Nekonkh said gruffly, "what say you to a game of draughts?"

"In your cabin? Lead the way, Captain." Sheftu gestured to allow Nekonkh to walk ahead, ready for whatever private conversation Nekonkh wanted to have. His eyes searched briefly for the lithe, pretty little silhouette of his wife against the harsh Egyptian sun, but she was nowhere to be seen.

The two men went into the captain's cabin and shut the door.

"I was thinking, I know it must be hard, keeping apart from your bride for all this time. Maybe tonight you can share her cabin?" Nekonkh drummed his fingers on the edge of the table as he spoke. Sheftu sighed, looking away.

"You know it's impossible," Sheftu said, "we can't alert the crew. None of them are within the King's trust or aware of the plans."

"This morning, when you visited her, Bhetosh came asking and it was an easy explanation – you were in my cabin, reviewing plans. I didn't need to guess, I knew where the two of ye were." Nekonkh drawled on, "I could say something again…sometimes I can use my wits, though perhaps not as capably as you and the maid – "

"As much as I esteem your endeavors, I would rather not risk the mission again." Sheftu cut him off, his tone ending the subject. Nekonkh regarded him a moment, his old eyes compassionate.

"It isn't fair," he mumbled, "Mara being naught but a little maid, maybe not even twenty years old, saving the King and all of Egypt, only to be cast into the arena again."

Sheftu picked at a loose splinter on the table with his nail, his brow tight. He contemplated his reply for some time, finally saying, "I agree, Captain." He swallowed audibly, and added, "but what choice do we have? I trust our king and Mara loves Egypt and her Canaanite Princess. My only option is to accompany her, protect her, advise her. I would much prefer she stay in Egypt, but Pharaoh insisted she was best suited for the mission."

"It's a tricky net to be caught in, this situation," Nekonkh said. The two men were silent for some time, then Nekonkh began to set up the board game. He grabbed a flask and poured two cups of wine, extending one to Sheftu, who graciously accepted.

"So," Nekonkh said as Sheftu drank his wine, "do ye have a plan in place if she be with child?"

Sheftu choked on his wine. "Pardon?" he sputtered, putting the cup down and coughing.

Nekonkh shrugged and stared at the board, "If the mission is dangerous…it might be wise to have a plan for…that."

Sheftu caught his breath after some struggling but didn't speak.

Nakonkh's thick brows raised on his forehead, and he said, "I know ya be a…younger man, but I imagine you know – "

"Know what?" Sheftu bit in, "how it works?" His voice was incredulous, "Pray, how old do you take me for?"

"I said – "

"No, I don't have a plan," Sheftu interrupted him again, this time grumpily, "though with the lack of time spent together I can't imagine we have much to plan - on that ground - in any case."

"Aye, so you are correct," Nekonkh said with a sigh, seemingly relieved to end the personal subject. Sheftu studied the captain's reddened face with a pang in his heart – such a conversation reminded him of something occurring between father and son, and suddenly his father's absence was keenly felt. By the same token, Nekonkh was the closest thing to a father that Mara had, and his overt concern for her warmed Sheftu deeply. He took his cup again and sipped the dark liquid.

"Captain," Sheftu said after a pause, "if Mara becomes…is with child, you must take her away to somewhere safe, no matter what she says, understand?"

"Aye, of course," Nekonkh gruffed, moving his player on the board.

"You might be the only man I trust with her safety," Sheftu said solemnly, looking into the captain's eyes, "you care for her, and always have."

"As have you," Nekonkh smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. Sheftu returned the smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Inanni weaved her way through a tight crowd on the streets of Cairo. It wasn't quite the eleventh hour, yet the sun already beat down with oppressive heat. Tradesmen, fishermen, and shoppers swarmed the market, shouting sales, bargaining, and talking over each other as goods were exchanged. Inanni needed no such goods but sought only the tax-booth on the outskirts of town, marking the beginning of the road to Canaan. She remembered it well from her journey into Egypt only a few months prior. Travelers were required to pay a toll when passing the booth for the road to be maintained and kept safe with regular guards. If Mara and Sheftu had reached this road, their names would be logged into the record book, surely. Perspiration broke out on inanni's brow as she was shoved by a group of giddy young women, all vying for a set of necklaces on sale in the stall nearby. She stuttered an apology in Egyptian, though they didn't seem to hear or notice her. _Very well_ , Inanni thought, _I have no time for them anyway_. For the hundredth time, Inanni worried that she wouldn't find Mara and Sheftu before it was too late, and they were already in Syria without her. She pushed forward, eyes searching for any sign of the booth.

By Inanni's estimation, Mara and Sheftu would have reached Cairo about ten days before she did – they were travelling by river, which was fast, but Inanni had paid for a stallion, which delivered her with astounding speed to multiple new cities a day. Inanni had never witnessed an Egyptian woman traveling by horseback, and she sorely hoped her act of doing so wouldn't betray her identity as a Syrian. Not that it was widely known that the Canaanite Princess had a good seat.

Inanni eventually found the booth she was looking for, and when she asked to view the record book, she realized with despair it was improbable that Mara and Sheftu would be travelling by their real names. Her Egyptian was not strong enough to describe the appearance of Mara and Sheftu – save for one crucial detail – Mara's blue eyes. The moment Inanni pointed to her eye and said "blue," the man working the booth brightened with recognition and pointed to the road, indicating that they were already on their way across the Sinai desert. Inanni paid her fee in haste, mounting her vivacious steed once more. The booth worker pointed to camels hitched nearby, communicating that a camel would better suit the journey, however, Inanni's need for swift travel trumped practicality. As an anecdote, she purchased several skins of water, hanging them on her horse's saddle to provide the beast with plenty of drinks, and for herself she purchased a large flask.

The noise and bustle of the city disappeared in clouds of sand as Inanni galloped into the desert. Her heart matched the hoofbeats below her – pounding hard and fast. The moment Inanni had left the palace she had never stopped long enough to look back. In her heart, she knew thinking too much about what she was doing would frighten her into returning to Pharaoh – and she couldn't fail Mara after Mara had risked so much and been such a friend to her. By Baal's blessing, Inanni would remain strong and reach Mara in time.

The light Egyptian clothing had been comfortable in the cities, and Inanni had passed for an Egyptian easily enough, but the sheer fabric did nothing to protect her in the desert sunshine. Inanni stopped a moment to throw a Syrian shawl about herself, shielding her from the sting of sand and sunburn. She and her horse beat onward, covering much ground.

/

Mara and Sheftu plodded through the desert heat on a Camel – they had been on the desert road for two days, and while the heat and ride was grueling, they were beyond happy to be finally alone together. Bhetosh had at last performed his duties, or so they were told. After docking in Cairo, Bhetosh had set off for Rafah, a small city on the other side of the desert, where a group of Syrian diplomats would receive Mara and Sheftu. He communicated the message given to him by the king and returned to Cairo to meet Nekonkh and give Sheftu and Mara the signal to begin the next leg of their journey. The trip should have taken Bhetosh six days, but he completed it in twelve, much to Mara's chagrin. Shortly after, Bhetosh sailed away on the Beetle while Sheftu and Mara headed to the Sinai.

The desert was devoid of other people as far as the eye could see, a perfect setting for two young people in love. As soon as the city was gone behind them, Sheftu squeezed Mara in a tight embrace as she rode in front of him on the camel. He bent to kiss her cheek, his soft laughter mingling with hers in shared delight. They made love under the stars that night, taking their time as if to make up for all the lonely nights before.

Back on the camel the next day, Mara sat facing Sheftu, her head resting on his chest while he worked the reins. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, her dress was pushed up so that she could straddle him in the saddle.

"Beloved," Sheftu murmured, a smile in his tone, "you know I love thy affection, but if we are spotted sitting like this-"

"Husband," Mara interjected, "who is here to spot us?"

"As usual, my blue lily is correct," Sheftu kissed the top of her head, "but there is another problem, I daresay."

Mara raised her head to look at him. "What problem is that?"

His dark eyes were swirling with playful danger. "In this position, I can think only of taking thee again…"

With his words, Mara presently became aware of his throbbing between them, the motion of the camel causing friction. She wound her arms around his neck and gave him a taunting smile, "why don't you?"

He kissed the smile from her lips, rendering her senseless with his usual skillful techniques. The reins dropped, and Mara felt Sheftu's hands on her, gripping her tightly, pressing her closer to him. He licked into her mouth, making her gasp and wriggle against him. His hand moved to her hip, and gooseflesh erupted all over her skin as Sheftu groaned, the movement of their bodies in the saddle mimicking love-making.

Mara's heart raced as fast as the hot blood in her veins, each second slipping deeper into a state of abandon. They were alone at last, after so much time spent hiding their love. Last night had only been a taste of the pent-up passion they held, and now as Sheftu kissed her neck, the floodgates threatened to open. Desperately Mara groped for her wits, but alas, they were gone beyond the smoldering horizon as Sheftu's kisses roughened. He took her earlobe between his teeth and Mara couldn't hold back anymore, a tiny cry escaped her lips. Sheftu licked and kissed and teased his way around her jaw and throat, his hands running under her thighs to grip her spread cheeks as her whimpers turned to moans.

"Ahoy there!" A male voice in Babylonian carried over the dunes. Sheftu and Mara froze, not a heartbeat between them. Then all at once Sheftu was hoisting Mara to the ground, rearranging his shenti, and dismounting after her. Mara stood still, the shock rooting her to the ground with tingling numbness. At last her eyes found the owner of the voice, a great distance off, waving a bright flag and beckoning to them.

"Do you think he saw?" Mara whispered, her mouth suddenly dry as papyrus. Sheftu was arming himself with a short sword and dagger while pretending to adjust the camel's packs.

"Nay, we are too far away," Sheftu said after some thought, "but we must prepare for trouble, in any case."

Sheftu handed Mara a flask of water and she drank gratefully. When she was finished, Sheftu took a drink and reattached it to the saddle. They walked to meet the man waving the flag, and as they drew nearer they saw he had a tent and another man with him.

"Greetings, strangers," the man said as Sheftu and Mara approached.

"Greetings," Mara returned in Babylonian. Sheftu gave a slight bow as a greeting.

"This is the outpost before Rafah, we sell water, supplies, and even food to honest travelers. I am Singh, this is Jarroh. Whom do we have the honor of serving?" The man, Singh, smiled as he spoke, gesturing to himself and Jarroh.

"This is Rasha, the Egyptian diplomat sent to greet the new Canaanite King," Mara introduced Sheftu and he bowed again. "And I'm Nessie, his interpreter."

"Ah! Welcome, welcome! Pray, have you need of any water? Perhaps some refreshment?" Singh was lining up various pots and flasks, eager to please them.

"She be in need of a corrective swat," the other man, Jarroh, stood as he spoke, his eyes roaming over Mara's figure. Mara stiffened, instinctual defiance entering her pose as she took in the size of this man – at full height he was two heads taller than herself – he was bigger than Sheftu.

"Jarroh!" Singh said, abashed, "Is that any way to speak to our gue-"

"These aren't guests. These are foreigners. And this woman is a whore." Jarroh spat. Fury and fear – a combination as second nature as breathing, sparked inside Mara. She glanced at Sheftu, who couldn't understand a word of what was being said, but was already tense and guarded, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

"Son of pigs," Mara kept her voice even, "I'd remind you that Egyptian women –"

"I care not where you are from," Jarroh advanced, and Sheftu edged in front of Mara, saying, "What is this?"

"This man thinks me – " but she couldn't finish as the two Syrians began arguing loudly.

"How dare you bring trouble! Your job isn't judge, but host!" Singh's cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"I won't play host to a pair of heathens – just look at her neck! It's clear this man has had his lips there, leaving marks!" Jarroh flung his hand out, pointing at Mara's throat. Mara resisted the urge to cover it with her hands, silently cursing her indulgences with Sheftu.

"What is he saying?" Sheftu hissed over his shoulder.

"He noticed the marks…on my neck," Mara leaned close to murmur this, as the other men's voices escalated. Sheftu didn't react, except to clench the hilt of his sword, poised for action.

"She may have a husband!" Singh was quick to defend, "it may be she left him in Cairo…"

"To travel alone? With a man?" Jarroh said this as if it was the most shameful of sins, "and dressed like a common slut! I won't let her tarnish the blessed hills – "

"I have no husband," Mara said, head held high, "I'm following orders from my king to be here – "

"What kind of king allows such loose morals – "

"Why do you care – "

"It's my place as man – "

"As a man indeed – "

They argued until they were shouting, Singh holding Jarroh back with panic while Sheftu stood before Mara, forcing her to yell over his shoulder. Jarroh moved to attack, but Sheftu blocked deftly, sweeping Mara out of harm's way. Next moment there was a sing of metal as Sheftu drew his sword. Everyone was still, Sheftu the only one shifting, widening his stance, his eyes deadly over the shining blade.

"Tell this swineherd today will be his last," Sheftu's quiet voice was laden with icy resolve, "I'll wait for him to draw his weapon."

Mara opened her mouth to translate, but another sound drew the attention of the group. Behind them, from the desert, came the unmistakable gallop of horse hooves, approaching rapidly. All turned to gape at the rider, coming nearer with each second.

Mara squinted against the bright sun rays, making out the great billowing of brightly colored shawls in the wind, the face of the rider half- concealed with cloth, the horse flying across the dunes.

"Hyah!" was heard over the sands, the voice being feminine, urging the steed faster still. There was a piece of broken chariot on the path, and Mara held her breath as the rider moved as one with the mighty beast, the horse leaping over the obstacle with one command, landing and pressing on quicker than before.

The group barely had time to prepare before there was the urgent "Woahh!" and a cloud of sand as the rider brought the horse to a stop, sailing from the saddle with a fluid grace of silk and wool before the beast had even fully halted. Mara stood speechless – she had never seen such a horsewoman in all her days. Next moment she nearly fainted with shock as the rider pulled away the cloth from her face – and before her stood the breathless Princess Inanni.


	13. Chapter 13

"Forgive me!" Inanni panted to Mara, "And greetings, brethren." Inanni curtseyed to the men, avoiding their eye contact. "My horse is better now, I am sorry I took so long." Inanni spoke to Mara as though Mara would have every expectation of seeing her there. Mara fumbled her first response, then her cleverness returned to her and she played along, saying, " _Aii_ indeed, I can see he is better now."

Inanni smiled and took her hand. Mara felt the princess was trembling fiercely, though her voice was impressively steady. "Need you some shawls, my lady?" She turned to the Syrian men, "Please excuse my tardiness, I am traveling with this lady to provide customs advice and of course act as chaperone…"

Jarroh and Singh bowed respectfully.

"Of course, my lady. It is convenient you arrived now, as we were about to have an honor duel over this…Egyptian woman," Jarroh said gruffly, "See to it she is properly dressed."

"Could I offer you some refreshment? Perhaps she will want to change inside the privacy of the tent?" Singh was relieved to act the part of amiable host again, a tentative smile spreading across his face.

Inanni gracefully accepted, guiding Mara toward the shelter, retrieving a pack from her horse's saddle.

"I will see to your horse, madam," Singh cheerfully gathered some oats and water.

Sheftu lingered a moment, then followed the women to the tent. Inanni kept him from entering, asking Mara to tell him to wait outside.

"What in the name of Osiris is going on?" Sheftu whispered when Mara came close enough to hear.

"I don't know," Mara said, "let me find out…perhaps you can guard the door?"

Sheftu nodded and she turned into the tent, to find herself engulfed in the princess's embrace.

"Princess?" Mara, after a pause, returned her hug, "my princess…what are you doing here?"

"Oh Mara," Inanni's voice was thick and broke on Mara's name. She sobbed as quietly as she could into Mara's shoulder, squeezing her waist.

"Princess! What's amiss? Tell me!" Mara whispered urgently, her own voice threatening to crack.

"I know…about my family," Inanni sniffed, "I found it out. From a message left on Pharaoh's table."

"Oh, princess…" Mara tightened her arms around Inanni.

"I was afraid, but I thought about you…and what you would do…" Inanni drew a deep breath, "I knew you would need my help – Mara, Syria is a beautiful country, but it can be…trying for a woman. When Thutmose told me he was sending you – "

"He told you?" Mara leaned back to look down into Inanni's flushed face. Inanni blinked as fresh tears pooled in her large eyes.

"H-he did," she choked out as streams ran down her cheeks, "and I…I ran away from him, without even saying goodbye!" She buried her face in Mara's shoulder again as a new storm of tears overwhelmed her. Mara patted the princess, her mind working to connect the facts.

"Does he know you're here?" Mara didn't wait for a response to add, "you traveled _alone_?"

"I didn't tell him," Inanni's voice was tiny, "I slipped away before dawn…alone…I tried to blend in…" Inanni stepped back, clutching her draperies. She swallowed hard, and removed them, letting Mara gaze upon the Egyptian ensemble underneath.

Mara gaped, open mouthed, at the striking transformation. If Inanni had arrived in this, Mara would not have recognized her. The white dress she wore was Egyptian, cut closer to the body and sheer. Although Inanni had been mocked by countless Egyptians in her Syrian garb, Mara had to admit Inanni's body was attractive in Egyptian dress. Upon her head was a fine wig, adorned with beads in several colors. With the last touch being her makeup, Inanni looked like any other young Egyptian beauty. Despite the circumstances, Mara couldn't help smiling.

"You ran through Egypt in this?"

"Well…" Inanni knelt to open her bag she had brought, "I rode most of the way, the horse I purchased is quick." She pulled out Syrian clothing, then began to undress. "Mara, you will want to wear one of these gowns, I packed one for you."

Mara hesitated, then joined her, delicately folding the Egyptian dresses once they were off. Inanni removed her wig and fluffed out her natural hair, running her fingers through the long strands. She helped Mara into a Syrian dress of blues and reds, arranging a complimentary emerald shawl over her black hair. Mara returned the favor, fastening Inanni's gown for her.

Dressed in modest, Syrian dresses and shawls, Mara and Inanni faced one another. Mara shook her head slowly, the old wistfulness returning to her visage.

"My princess, I cannot fathom you travelled so far…through Egypt – alone – for me…" Mara's chest felt warm, and her eyes stung, "you must have been so afraid."

"Mara," Inanni whispered, her own eyes full, "you are risking so much for me and my beloved family." Inanni shook her head, then continued, "I put my fear aside and found courage when I thought of you – that night you escaped to help Sheftu – the torture you endured…" Inanni wiped her eyes, "and besides all that, you were my friend when no one else would even consider me…you were the kindest person…" Inanni covered her mouth with her little hand as tears trickled over her plump cheeks. Mara listened in awe, the warmth in her chest spreading to a hot lump in her throat, her watery eyes overflowing.

"I had to help you, my dearest friend!" Inanni hugged her again, and Mara squeezed her back, too moved to speak.

Some time passed before the two women took a step back and giggled sheepishly, wiping salty tears from their cheeks.

"You look beautiful in the gown," Inanni said, eyes traveling over the colorful fabric. Mara was patting around her eyepaint, careful not to smudge.

"You think so?" Mara turned around, watching the swirl of color in her skirts.

"Yes, you look so lovely, especially with your blue eyes," Inanni smiled.

"You were beautiful in the Egyptian clothes, too," Mara remarked, "I especially loved the wig."

"You don't think it was…too much?" Inanni's cheeks were pink.

Mara grinned.

"Of course not."

After the ladies had repacked the sack with their Egyptian gowns and accessories, they exited the tent. Sheftu was waiting, examining his nails with haughty boredom, the Syrian men watching him from afar. He glanced at Mara, and if he felt any surprise from her appearance, he masked it with serene indifference. The trio strode back to where Singh and Jarroh were waiting. Singh had provided water and food to the animals and had compiled a small stock of supplies – all of which he offered at an extreme discount due to Jarroh's earlier impudence. Inanni was full of demure gratitude, eyes downcast with modesty when addressing the men. Her presence created harmony where before there was only discord, and even Jarroh was moved to help tie Inanni's sack to her horse for her.

As they prepared to depart, Mara made her way to the camel after Sheftu. Inanni followed, taking Mara's arm.

"Mara, don't get on the camel with Sheftu," Inanni whispered. They continued walking, so the others wouldn't suspect anything amiss.

"Why is that?" Mara replied, but she already predicted the answer.

"It isn't seemly for a single woman to ride with a single man…" Inanni's fingers twitched on Mara's arm as she spoke, "we can ride together on my horse – please tell Sheftu."

"I see," Mara said slowly, "I think I can explain it to him…"

Sheftu watched the two approach, and Mara observed the subtle change in his expression as he surely was calculating the significance of Inanni's presence.

"Sheftu," Mara said in Egyptian, "Inanni says it is better I ride with her. These Syrians can't endure a free maid riding alone with an unmarried man."

Sheftu laughed through his nose, a half-smirk revealing a glint of his white teeth, but his eye held a special twinkle, just for Mara. "I do not blame them," he said, "I couldn't endure it either, though for completely different reasons."

Mara tingled as his dark eyes flitted for the briefest of moments over her, then moved away, over the sands. Inanni cleared her throat, and Mara nodded to Sheftu and continued onward with Inanni, mounting the horse behind her.

The group rode into the desert, toward Rafah. When they were out of earshot, Mara divulged the princess's tale to Sheftu. His eyes flashed, faint panic behind them as Mara explained the princess came without Pharaoh's knowledge.

Sheftu halted his camel.

"Should we return her?" he wasn't speaking to Mara but to himself, "Nay, we have come too far, but – " Sheftu's head inclined toward the princess, "ask her how long she has been away from the palace – surely the King knows she is missing by now."

Mara translated for Inanni, who informed Mara it had been little over a week since she left Thebes.

"Mother of Amon," Sheftu was shaking his head, "it is shorter than I thought, but I know my King will be driven mad with concern."

"What is he saying, Mara?" Inanni whispered back to Mara.

"Princess, Sheftu is worried about the King's reaction to you missing. Have you provided no hint as to where you are going?"

"I left instructions for my ladies," Inanni began, biting her lip, "I wrote several notes, each one numbered for the order in which to give to Pharaoh."

"Notes?"

"Each note details some falsehood about my condition – my first note informed His Majesty that I am ill and taken to my couch."

"How many did you write?"

"About fifteen – it's the only amount of time I would presume I could keep him at bay with a perceived illness before he forced his physician into the matter."

Sheftu watched the exchange, waiting to be involved, before finally butting in to ask what was being said. Mara filled him in and he was quick to ask, "Did she have a plan for if Pharaoh discovered her lies?"

Mara posed the question to Inanni and got the reply "Yes, I had another note…actually a letter…" Mara waited for the princess to go on, but Inanni only retreated further behind the curtain of her dark curls and colorful silks.

"What did it say?" Mara had her arms around the princess's waist, and she felt the girl stiffen.

"Not much," Inanni's voice was small, "I thanked him for his kindness and generosity to me."

"Did you tell him where you were going?" Mara said gently.

"N-not explicitly," Inanni wavered, "I told him I must go where I am needed."

Mara was silent a moment, then translated to Sheftu. He thought for a long time, his camel began plodding forward as a response to his master's lack of attention. Sheftu didn't correct the beast and let him walk. The women followed on their horse.

"The King will know where she went," Sheftu said, turning in the saddle.

"What will he do?" Mara said.

"Probably," Sheftu sighed, "send a messenger or spy to collect her? I can't be sure, Little One. It is not like any predicament Thutmose has ever faced."

Mara whispered Sheftu's words to Inanni, who gasped and turned to Sheftu, pleading with him to help her and not allow some messenger to collect her and take her back. Mara translated as she spoke and Sheftu looked away, his brow knitted together, weariness in his pose in the saddle. Mara was reminded of the day on the Beetle when he had no stomach for the day's work. She suspected he had no stomach to disappoint an innocent maiden like Inanni, but Mara knew Sheftu would obey Pharaoh if commanded it.

"It may be it won't come to that," Sheftu murmured, "In any case, she will be under my protection until we hear from our King. I am certain it is what he would wish, and I do believe the princess can be of use to us…if we approach this properly and rely on her expertise on Syrian culture."

Mara patted Inanni as she told her Sheftu's reply, and the princess promised she would do everything she could to be of help – indeed, it was her purpose for coming.

"Will anyone recognize her?" Sheftu said, a new worry formulating, "how about servants and courtiers? Wouldn't they all know her right away?"

Mara posed this to Inanni, who squirmed in the saddle and stuttered, "I…c-certainly hope not, but…" Inanni rubbed the leather reins nervously between her thumb and forefinger, "I am wearing plain garb, and I believe the court was overthrown…" her words faded into the desert winds.

" _Aii_ , princess," Mara soothed, "we will think of something if you are discovered." She translated Inanni's remarks to Sheftu, who appeared much less confident than Mara, but admitted they had no choice but to try the scheme and handle the consequences as they came.

/

Thutmose stalked the palace halls, feet pounding against the smooth stones. If the princess was not better today, he would send for the doctor. For seven days now, she had been unable to see him. Thutmose knew women sometimes had days of being…indisposed, but an entire week?

 _Perhaps the news about her family has caused her to go into shock,_ he worried to himself, _I shouldn't have told her so much…_

He quickened his steps to her chambers. He would see her today, Canaanite modesty be damned. He rounded the last corner and stood at the door, gesturing to his servant to open it for him. As the wide door swung into the bright room of butterflies, he stepped inside, not waiting to be announced. Ladies all around scrambled to their feet, curtseying and stuttering greetings in Babylonian. He pushed past them, into the inner chamber – the bedroom. The ladies erupted into flusters and protests, but Thutmose ignored them, seeking only the familiar little figure of his betrothed. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, the bed empty. The King whirled into the adjoining chamber, thinking perhaps she was up, practicing embroidery. But she was nowhere to be found. Panic, rage, confusion – all clamored for dominance in his racing mind, his vision clouding in red.

"Where is she?" he asked, and when he got no answer, he bellowed, "I will not ask again – where is the Princess Inanni?"

The ladies cowered and shook, whispering among themselves until finally one lady stepped forward, bearing a scroll.

The king snatched it, unrolling it hastily and reading:

 _My Dear King,_

 _If you are reading this letter, it means you have discovered my absence. Forgive me - it pains me to deceive you. Please accept my sincerest apologies. Had I known a way to be truthful but not impeded, I would have told you all. However, no idea came to me, so I was forced to invent falsehoods, of which I shall forever be ashamed. You have been naught but kind and generous to me, someone so lowly and so unworthy of your favor. The time I spent with you will always be remembered in the tenderest corner of my heart._

 _The time has come for me to go where I am needed. Although I am afraid, I will carry with me the memory of your courage and fortitude to give me strength. Please pray to the Egyptian gods for my safety and success. Though I doubt we will meet again, I pray you know that my heart will ever be yours, as your faithful,_

 _Inanni_

Thutmose read the letter five times over before stumbling into a chair. He read the message again, his head swimming.

"Osiris…" he breathed, "mother of the gods…"

Dropping the scroll, he buried his face in his hands. He remained in this position for some time, the Syrian women gawking from the doorway. His mind replayed the last day he saw the princess – the day she discovered Bhetosh's message. He felt again the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, the soft warmth of her in his arms. Anxiety coiled in his gut as he realized she was undoubtedly on her way to Canaan – she must have some notion of helping her family.

"Who accompanied her?" He rasped at last to the group of women. The all exchanged glances, and one said, "Why, no one, majesty. She went alone."

The King's mouth fell open, then closed as he clenched his teeth. He stood, barking out questions as he paced, eyes fixed on the floor.

"When did she leave?"

"About a week ago, Majesty."

"How did she go unnoticed?"

"We believe she dressed as an Egyptian, my Lord."

"Did she take anything with her?"

"Syrian clothes, and money, Majesty."

"Did she mention her plan to any of you?"

"Only regarding the notes, your Highness."

The King nodded, his chin in his hands as he continued pacing. One week, Egyptian disguise, Syrian clothes…he was certain she was going to Syria. By this time, she could be all the way to Cairo….Thutmose pondered in silence, the only sounds coming from his feet beating the floor. A long while later, he froze, his stance resolute.

"I will go to her aid," he said.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks for reading so far! No matter how long it takes for me to update - please believe I will finish this story. I actually wrote most of it already and am now adding to the structure I made, filling in plot holes, editing, etc. As usual I appreciate any and all feedback and thank you all for your kind support!

/

Mara, Sheftu, and Inanni reached Rafah without trouble, and the diplomats they met with were amiable and hospitable. The trio moved on the next day and visited town after town, each day relying on Inanni's guidance for Syrian etiquette and culture. It quickly became apparent that without her, Mara and Sheftu would never have gotten far. Mara was fluent in Babylonian, but she had never left Egypt and lacked the modesty Inanni had been socialized to practice from a young age.

Finally, they came to the palace. Nestled among green hills covered in fluffy sheep was a great stone castle. Mara noted the imposing architecture wasn't as elegant as Egypt's palace, but the fortress still evoked awesome magnificence. Mara strained her neck to look to the top as they neared the massive wooden doors. She wasn't sure she had ever seen a building so tall.

The sound of chains clanking against metal grated on Mara's ears as the great doors were opened, a servant greeting them. All three dismounted from the animals and additional servants came forward to lead the horse and camel away to stables. Sheftu bowed as the ladies curtseyed. Mara introduced Sheftu as Rasha, the Egyptian diplomat come to meet with the King. The servant murmured some pleasantries and then led them to some guest quarters to change clothes after their journey.

Mara noted Inanni's careful placement of shawls and hair to obscure her visage as much as possible. She held her breath each time they passed a new person, but no one immediately recognized the princess. Sheftu was directed into a room near that of Mara and Inanni's, simply because he would require Mara's translation services constantly. Inanni whispered to Mara, "Keep your eyes downcast and away from Sheftu, it is frowned upon for a woman to meet the gaze of a man, and if you allow your eyes to wander too often, people may guess you're in love…or worse."

"Worse?" Mara whispered back, smirking.

"People may think you are… _involved_."

Mara turned her blue eyes on Inanni, full of mischief. Inanni's mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.

A servant entered the room before Mara could utter something impudent.

"Ladies! His majesty King Nefer is ready to meet the Egyptian diplomat. Please prepare yourselves and meet me in the hall." The servant said this with warm cheer, so unlike the reserved Egyptian servants. Mara's eyebrows rose as the servant exited without a bow or salute. Inanni was unaffected, already opening chests and pulling out fresh silks and shawls. She motioned for Mara to help her with her gown, and within minutes the women were fashioned from head to toe in clean, bright draperies. Inanni covered her face with a veil, cut so that it covered her from the nose down. The fabric was sheer, but effectively concealed her appearance.

"I needn't speak to anyone during the audience," Inanni said as they made their way to the door, "I pray no one will recognize me…"

" _Haii_ , with all those blankets about thee?" Mara shrugged into her own shawl, "It's a wonder if anyone knows thee from a couch."

Inanni smiled behind her veil. They entered the hallway to meet the servant and Sheftu, who had changed into formal clothing, albeit Egyptian.

"Why do you get to wear linens?" Mara grumbled as they strode through stony corridors.

"Because I am a man, and in no need of protection from a lady's seductive glance." Sheftu said lightly.

"Is that the reason?" Mara scoffed, "And I suppose this means I am in need of protection?"

"Aye, of course it does," Sheftu gave her a sideways glance from his long eyes, "A man cannot control himself when faced with a beauty such as yours."

Mara's only reply was a roll of the eyes.

"Mara," Inanni piped, "eyes down!"

Mara obeyed, but not without a haughty exhale. The stone corridor opened to a winding staircase, the walls of which were worn smooth from years of touch. Balanced against the pressed bricks, they descended, the sound of music and laughter filtering through the glowing doorway below. It was a squeeze into a candlelit mess hall, with enormous wooden tables overflowing with meats, cheeses, fruits, and other foods, all being eaten by crowds of drunken men, their beards collecting the foam from their cups of ale. Cloaked women sat on the edges of the room, murmuring to one another. There were other women, wearing next to nothing, serving drinks and laughing on men's laps. _Prostitutes?_ Mara pondered, studying the translucent veils and exposed midriffs. Mara, Sheftu, and Inanni passed down the center aisle of tables toward a chunky wooden throne, where sat a grisly man, chugging a bottle of ale.

"Honored guests," sang the servant with them, "behold, his royal and glorious majesty, King Nefer!" He gestured widely at the bulky dais. The king finished his ale and tossed the bottle aside. With a bland acknowledgement of the approaching group, the king motioned almost imperceptibly for them to proceed.

"Majesty," the servant said, "may I present the Egyptian diplomat, Rasha, and his interpreter, Nessie."

Inanni curtseyed deeply, half hiding behind Mara. Mara and Sheftu had also lowered themselves respectfully, Sheftu giving a salute of respect.

The man on the throne straightened, belching. "So," he tore a hunk of bread from the table beside him and said, "It's the high and mighty Egyptians."

Mara's brows knit together. His foul breath burned her nostrils, even from such a distance.

"Well, what do you want?" he barked, stuffing bread in his mouth.

Mara paused, choosing her words carefully. She translated to Sheftu, keeping her voice steady.

"Greetings, Highness," Sheftu said with indifferent grace, "Egypt extends her warmest regards to the serene lands of Syria."

Mara translated with every attempt to convey Sheftu's refined poise. The King slouched deeper into his chair and belched again.

"Pah!" he managed between bites of more bread, "I see Pharaoh could not deign to pay me a visit himself – instead he sends lackies who cannot even speak Babylonian! Warmest regards indeed!" Nefer fisted another bottle of drink, his dark eyes heavy and reddened. Mara quietly told Sheftu the king's words, taking great care to sound unoffended lest she anger the drunken man before them. The air was thick with danger and tension – Mara could practically feel Inanni trembling behind her. One misstep and this barbarian before her would likely lop off their heads.

"Canaan's Ruler is glorious," Sheftu turned all his charming powers on the man, "Surely a King understands another King's commitments to his people." Mara copied the gentle tones Sheftu used, translating into the most elegant Babylonian she knew.

"It is true I am but a lowly servant," Sheftu continued with a bow, "but I come to bask in thy Royal presence with a purpose – I am not only a diplomat, but also an accountant. As a new ruler, perhaps it is on your Majesty's horizon to review trade accounts with Egypt?"

Mara held her breath after translating, watching Nefer's reaction to Sheftu's glib-tongued olive branch.

The king adjusted his seat, leaning forward, dusting crumbs from his hands.

"Aye, I have some trade accounts I would like to review," he said darkly, "one in particular…involves the betrothed princess sent to Egypt some months ago."

Mara waited to translate as she could not grasp her words. She heard Inanni's small intake of breath behind her and sweat broke out on Mara's brow. Finally, she managed to say the frightful speech and Sheftu, remaining cool, said, "Ah, the princess, daughter of the emerald green hills, blessed with grace and beauty? Our King is most pleased with her."

After Mara spoke the words, Nefer chuckled, eyes downcast.

"If he be so pleased, why has he not taken her for his wife?" Nefer brought his gaze to Sheftu, his eyes black against the firelight, "We have messengers and spies of our own, none of them report progress in the matrimonial…affairs of Pharaoh and the daughter of Canaan."

Mara heard Inanni rustle behind her, but she dared not turn to see what the princess was about. Every second passed was a red flag of distress, and Mara couldn't betray their discomfort. She pressed on, forcing herself to perform her duties and forget all else. Sheftu played his part exceedingly well, as could be expected, and Mara marveled at how skilled he was at hiding all form of anxiety. With a gesture and a beguiling smile, Sheftu explained, "In Egypt it is customary that a man and woman become acquainted on a deeper level – much like friendship – before entering into the sacred union. This combined with Pharaoh's desire to provide the flower of Canaan more time to bloom in the ways of Egypt has delayed the auspicious occasion, nothing more."

King Nefer's teeth glinted as a sinister smiled spread across his face. "In Syria we bed our women as soon as possible. But I suppose Pharaoh can do what he likes when he pleases." His eyes never left Sheftu's as he swilled the bottle once more. "No matter. We can sort these other accounts while you are here. Stay as long as you like. Go now. Dinner is here." Without waiting for Sheftu's reply he lurched to his feet and stomped off, a harem of silk-clad ladies trailing behind him. One of the girls gazed over the trio, and Mara felt Inanni grip her arm.

"I know her," she whispered.

Mara made no move. The girl turned back to her party. They exited the room while Sheftu bowed respectfully. Servants, smiling nervously, came forward to take the Egyptian guests to a table where heaping plates of lamb stew were served. Inanni removed her veil to eat, pale with fear that she be recognized by anyone else. Mara was tense beside her, while Sheftu sat across from the ladies, calmly discussing the quality of the lamb.

"It is most tender, is it not?" Sheftu remarked, slicing through the dark meat, "I never tasted such quality in Egypt."

"This place is dangerous," Mara leaned forward, "I fear she will be rec-"

"Not here." Sheftu's voice was so quiet it was nearly inaudible. Mara paused, grinned, and suddenly became very interested in Sheftu's plate. "Rasha, I do believe you have more meat than us!" She turned to the princess and said in Babylonian, "Is it not true? Rasha has more meat on his plate…isn't the lamb divine?"

Inanni brought another bite to her lips, a tiny smile her only reply to Mara. They ate quickly, and Inanni secured the veil over her face when finished. The servants guided them back to their rooms where they pretended to say goodnight and take to their couches.

Inanni and Mara were left alone in their chamber.

"Who was that girl?" Mara asked straightaway.

"She was a favored servant to my family, her name is Hisma." Inanni said, "She was always close with me – she wept when I left for Egypt."

"Did she recognize you?"

"Nay…I think perhaps not," Inanni thought for a moment, then said, "It may be my veil was enough to throw off detection."

"Do you trust her?" Mara stepped closer.

" _Aiii_ me, of course I do! She was serving my family from the time we were children!" Inanni smiled up at Mara.

"Then why is she within Nefer's harem?" Mara rose one eyebrow skeptically.

"…it is difficult to say…perhaps she had no choice?" Inanni faltered.

Mara folded her arms and nodded. She knew how these things often went. Women were forced to do many things they didn't want to do, in Egypt _and_ Canaan, it seemed. After a time, Mara helped the princess dress for bed. As the princess returned the favor, Mara began to shiver. The sun had set, and the room was chilly. Inanni bent to light a fire and there was a faint creak of a door opening in the same moment she sparked the flint. Sheftu, barefoot and wearing a Syrian dressing gown, entered swiftly. The princess gasped, dropping the flint.

"He can't be in here!" Inanni hissed at Mara, "Men are forbidden to see us without proper coverings…!"

Mara ignored her, meeting Sheftu in the center of the room, allowing him to take her hands. The princess clutched at a blanket and threw it over her hair, huddling in the corner.

"Tell her I wasn't seen," Sheftu whispered.

"He wasn't seen," Mara soothed over her shoulder, then turned back to Sheftu, "She's worried about you seeing our hair."

Sheftu's night eyes flitted over to the princess with amusement. "Aye, that is far more important a worry," he kissed Mara's hands, "however we must meet quickly to discuss matters. I need to ask the princess if she has any information – did she recognize anyone, overhear anything?"

"She knew one of the harem women – an old family servant, named Hisma." Mara said.

"Did the woman, Hisma, know Inanni?"

"She doesn't think so, no."

"Did the princess know anyone else?"

Mara asked the princess, who managed to whisper, "I did recognize a few faces, though none of my old friends…or family."

Sheftu nodded after he heard the reply from Mara.

"We will need to be on our guard. It is very dangerous here and most important that Inanni is not discovered." Sheftu looked to both women as he spoke and paused to give Mara time to translate. "Trust no one, everyone here is an enemy."

"But Hisma was my friend! I do not believe she would betray me," Inanni explained.

Sheftu shook his head after Mara gave him Inanni's answer.

"No one is to be trusted as of now. Did either of you notice the discomfort of the courtiers and the servants?"

"Aye, I managed to spot the servants, anyway," Mara said. Inanni agreed.

"Good, it may be easier to turn the tides than we planned. Rest now, ladies. I will be in the room beyond, merely call for me if there is any need." His eyes held Mara's as he drew her hand once again to his mouth and kissed it reverently. Then he was gone as quickly as he came, leaving Mara's skin tingling with the warmth of where his mouth had been, and her heart thumping.

/

 _So much has changed_ , Inanni thought, several mornings after arriving home. Gone were the smiles of her cousins and friends; the servants appeared unsure of what to do; the drinking parties never stopped. _Blessed Ishtar, it has fallen to disgrace!_ Inanni wept silent tears by night, praying for a miracle to restore her family to the throne. Her father ruled with integrity and fairness, keeping morals close to his bosom while the green hills flourished. This tyrant king, this Nefer – he spent most of his time drinking and fornicating. Violence ran strong through him; one evening, Inanni had to cover her eyes as he drew a sword and stabbed a man through the neck, for what reason Inanni knew not.

Inanni endeavored with all her might to be like Sheftu and Mara – sly and alert, always listening for secrets and information. Every night they met to discuss their progress, and even with the language barrier Sheftu and Mara were able to pick out those loyal to Inanni's family and gather clues on Nefer's weaknesses as a ruler. By the second week they had established a solid plan for revolution. Inanni proved to be less observant than them, however, the harem girl, Hisma, glanced so often her way that Inanni burned to speak with her. Surely it she could trust Hisma? Sheftu and Mara were against it, but Inanni was determined to converse with her, at least once. It may be Hisma had answers about her family.

The opportunity came to Inanni one early morning. She left Mara asleep in the bed and snuck to the kitchens, eager to pet her old cat who always slept on the hearth. Upon entering the room, she realized she was not alone, there was another girl there, petting the cat. She turned when Inanni approached, and Inanni saw it was Hisma.

"Princess? Is it you?" Hisma whispered, rising slowly.

"It is," Inanni whispered, with galloping heart, "Oh Hisma!" The girls met in an embrace.

"Princess! Why have you come? It is dangerous for you here." Hisma said into her ear.

"I know, but I had to save my family – do you know anything about them?"

Hisma stepped back, shaking her head.

"I wish I knew more," Hisma's eyes glistened with tears, "I'm sorry, I couldn't save them."

"No matter, you can save them now, please tell me all you know!" Inanni gripped her, desperately.

"They…they were betrayed. Nefer came in from a neighboring tribe for the feast of Baal, and when everyone was drunk, he ordered his men to slaughter everyone in this house. Your brother made a deal, that if everyone would be spared, the royal family would be prisoners, with no threat of taking back their throne."

"Who bretrayed them?" Inanni breathed, sinking to a chair unsteadily.

"I cannot tell you," Hisma lowered her eyes, picking at a piece of string on her skirt, "But I know he only keeps them alive for one reason."

"What's that?"

"You."

Inanni blinked, temporarily dumb. When she could speak, she said, "Why me? What have I got – "

"It may be that Pharaoh would pay a pretty price for the family of his wife…" Hisma gripped Inanni's arm, "Princess! You could ensure their safety! Merely whisper something to Pharaoh and have them brought to Egypt!"

"I…" Inanni's throat tightened and she swallowed hard to restore her voice, "I don't know if I can do that…"

"Surely Pharaoh will do what his Queen says?"

"We are not married, yet." Inanni's eyes stung with fresh tears she fought to control.

"Aye, but you will be!"

"Maybe…" Inanni trailed off into silence. She couldn't tell the tale of leaving Pharaoh. It was too soon, too private. Only Mara needed to know for now.

"You will find a way; we women always do." Hisma squeezed Inanni's hand. Inanni thought for a moment, composing herself, considering Hisma's position.

"Were you forced into the harem?" Inanni asked quietly.

"It doesn't matter," Hisma's voice hardened, "Nefer favors me so I do not face any hardships."

"He seems a tyrant king," Inanni's voice shook, "I can't believe what this place has become."

"Believe it, princess," Hisma said, "Sometimes, change is inevitable."

Something in her tone pricked Inanni's heart, and anger flared inside her. Change indeed is inevitable – but a revolt is not, a betrayal is not, Inanni thought. Outwardly she made no comment.

"I won't tell anyone I recognized you," Hisma said, starting for the door, "But don't get any ideas while you're here, it wouldn't be good for you to get involved. Trust me."

Inanni watched the girl twirl through the door in a flash of color and skirts. She looked to her cat while the tears welled up in her eyes. Mara had been right, speaking to Hisma was likely a mistake.

All day the secret weighed on her heart. She kept quiet around Mara for fear of accidentally confessing her sin in a hasty appeal for help and comfort. No matter how she tried, Inanni couldn't disperse the feeling that Hisma was hiding something. But what exactly that was, Inanni couldn't be sure.

As evening fell, Sheftu met with the women as usual. He and Mara had a new lead to starting a revolution. Outside the castle walls, a gathering of peasants was growing each day – they were starving and complained loudly of paying too many taxes. When Sheftu and Mara spoke to some disgruntled noblemen, it turned out that the new King was not sharing the wealth – not even with the aristocracy. Nobles and peasants alike were infuriated.

"The people can't survive like this," Sheftu said, "they will be eager to start a revolt."

"Do you think peasants stand a chance?" Mara asked.

"Peasants are the most powerful armies, sometimes," Sheftu assured her, "but with the help of the nobles, and some Egyptian gold, I think we can shift the balance."

Inanni listened, hoping Sheftu and Mara would soon bring about this revolt. It pained her to hear of the suffering of the poor. She looked across the green hills from her window and sighed. Could her brothers see the hills from their prison? She wondered.

More time passed, and Inanni ached for news about her family. She almost considered finding Hisma again, but one morning as Inanni and Mara were bathing, she overheard a conversation between two serving maids beyond the partition.

"He tortured him? For what purpose?" said the first maid.

"For being the prince!" said the second.

" _Aiiii_ me, these are dark times! Marduk help us, this usurper is going to kill us all!"

"Dark times indeed…did you hear about the princess Inanni?"

"No, what of her?"

"It is said her bridegroom rejected her. She has gone missing."

"Rejected? Princess Inanni? _Haiiii_ you must be mistaken! Our princess was ever the fairest maiden in Canaan. How could she be rejected?"

"I agree with you – I cannot see how it is possible. Although, did you notice the girl traveling with our Egyptian guests? She could be the twin of our lovely Inanni, could she not?"

"Aye, I thought so myself! Were the royal family servants not imprisoned, I would beg one of them to confirm she isn't our princess here in disguise!"

"Careful with your words…we do not dare to speak of these things…lest we meet the fate of those facing torture and bondage this very moment…"

"I quite agree, let us say no more…"

Inanni nearly called out to the maids, glancing at Mara to see if she had heard. Mara was dozing in a warm blanket by the fire – drying off from her dip in the tub.

Just as Inanni was rising in the water, a maid appeared from beyond the partition.

"My ladies, the King has sent for the Egyptian diplomat. Please dress and meet us quickly."

Inanni shook Mara awake and whispered a shortened version of what she had heard moments before. But they didn't have time to talk – no sooner had they donned their colorful draperies and the servant appeared again to escort them.

Inanni watched Mara's pointed glance at Sheftu, communicating with her eyes that she had news. Later that evening, Sheftu joined the ladies in their chamber to unpack the latest information. Sheftu's eyes were bright and dancing – he also had news. Mara went first, detailing the conversation Inanni had overheard that morning. Sheftu sobered a bit, tension building in his tall frame as he slouched against the mantle of their fireplace. He folded his arms and tapped his fingers against his elbows while muling over different strategies with Mara should the princess be caught. After a while, Mara became so engrossed in her conversation with Sheftu that she stopped translating, and Inanni had to sit in her own thoughts until the two remembered her.

Inanni noted the way Sheftu and Mara leaned closer and closer to each other as their rapid whispers became increasingly impassioned. Inanni was curious to know what Sheftu had learned that day, but didn't dare interrupt the two before her, as Sheftu suddenly snatched Mara against him, kissing her and laughing against her lips when she squealed in protest. The sight misted Inanni's eyes – was this what young love was like? Could this have been herself and Pharaoh, if she had stayed in the Golden Palace? Presently Mara wriggled free and said to Inanni, "Sheftu knows how we can unseat this Usurper within a fortnight."

"Truly? What has he found?" Inanni perked up.

"He played a game of – I forget the name of the game, but it involves overtaking a King – "

"Oh, you mean Whorst." Inanni supplied.

"Yes, probably," Mara continued, "He played with the current Duke of Amer and though the two could not converse due to a language barrier, the game was clearly a means a communication."

"Oh?"

"It seems Sheftu played his King to extend more taxes to the poor while keeping all grains and gold to himself, leaving the nobles and peasantry without supplies. The Duke took his ambassador, paired it with his nobles and lead an attack on the King using peasant soldiers. Sheftu says the Duke made distinct eye contact, and even negotiated a sum of gold with the ambassador."

"But what does it mean?" Inanni said, "A Duke might show he is for a revolt when playing a game, but how can Sheftu form a plan with a man he cannot understand the language – "

"He understood the numeric value of the gold played," Mara explained, "Sheftu said it was no different than any other negotiation – he will pay the sum of gold of this Duke requires and the Duke will join our forces."

Inanni leaned back, rubbing a corner of her shawl between her fingers thoughtfully. "I see," she said, "then the only question remaining is when."

"Sheftu need only play again with the Duke tomorrow. There they will determine the timing."

Inanni was relieved that night as she lay beside Mara. It seemed her moment of weakness in speaking with Hisma would be of no consequence – Sheftu and Mara would organize the revolution shortly and then all would be well.

The King's summons came before dinner the next day. The hall was rowdy as usual when they entered, the King lounging as he had done their first meeting. Inanni stood behind Mara, her eyes caught on the twinkling blade at Nefer's belt. It was her father's sword, with rubies set in the hilt. The sight made her eyes wet, and she cast her eyes downward, out of habit and fear of being seen weeping.

"My Egyptian guests, I hope you are doing well." The King smiled a wide, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He didn't even register Mara and Sheftu's words as they returned his greetings. His eyes rested beyond Mara, to Inanni, who couldn't help but glance up at the feeling of being watched. Immediately she returned her eyes to the floor, her stomach mimicking the action.

"But I fear I have been neglecting a follow Syrian. Come, who are you, little servant girl?" Nefer leaned forward, his grin growing.

"I – " Inanni's mouth went dry and she swallowed hard, "I'm no one, sir, just a regular servant."

"Is that so?" The King purred. After a pause, Inanni nodded. Mara had inadvertently angled herself more in front of Inanni, blocking her from view. The King stood, reached around Mara, and drew Inanni to her feet. He studied her carefully. "My servants tell me otherwise," he said, "I am told you are the fair princess Inanni."

From the corner of her eye, Inanni caught a glimpse of Mara gripping Sheftu's arm, her face drained of color. Inanni was trembling so badly she feared her legs would fail to uphold her. She tried to respond, but what came out of her mouth was merely a squeak.

"Come now, there's no reason to be afraid. Allow me the opportunity to treat you as you deserve…" He pulled on her, just as Sheftu drew his sword. Inanni heard her own heart in her ears as Mara said something to Sheftu and then Nefer. The world began to dim, and the quaking in her legs finally took her down. Just before collapsing, Inanni felt Mara's arms around her, and then she lost consciousness.

/


	15. Chapter 15

Thutmose approached the castle with his ten-man guard, ordering the gates open with a tone of authority. The Syrian guards scrambled to obey, a servant appearing to greet Pharaoh inside the walls.

"Take me to your King," Thutmose boomed.

As was his usual style, Thutmose didn't wait to be announced, but charged boldly ahead with his guard into the dining hall where the King was at audience with Sheftu, Mara, and Inanni.

Thutmose strode forward with powerful steps, stopping beside Mara, who was kneeling with the unconscious princess in her arms. He stared at Inanni. Sheftu was still holding his sword, hovering protectively over the women.

"What is this?" Pharaoh's voice was calmer than his expression. He looked to King Nefer, who was utterly bewildered by Thutmose's sudden appearance, and said, "What have you done to her?"

Nefer hesitated to respond, taking some time to collect himself. His eyes traveled over the ten-man guard, Sheftu's weapon, and the gold-clad King of Egypt before him. His usually reddened cheeks grew pale, and he stood stiffly before his throne, as if unable to move. But move he did, affecting a casual demeanor as he took his seat. At last he said, "Pharaoh, I presume?" Nefer leaned back in his chair, his fingers drummed the wooden arms.

"I see you didn't require an announcement," Thutmose said, "now, answer my question – what has happened to this maid?"

"She fainted away…when I discovered her identity," Nefer gestured for wine to be poured, "She is the princess Inanni, is she not?"

"My bride. Yes." Was Thutmose's curt reply.

"A bride you sent away…?" Nefer accepted a goblet of wine from a servant and watched as Thutmose refused his.

"I did not send her away." Thutmose's tone aimed to close the issue. He found Sheftu's eyes and communicated much to him in a single glance.

"Then why did she – "

"I am not here to discuss the princess." Thutmose widened his stance, hands on his hips.

"Is that so? Unfortunately, you find yourself in my house today, oh, Son of Ra," Nefer did nothing to hide the sarcasm in his voice as he took a gulp of wine, "I choose our topics."

"So be it," Thutmose's mouth was a thin line. Sheftu shifted beside Mara, who was fanning the princess. Inanni awoke slowly, eyelids fluttering until her vision focused. Thutmose heard her gasp and whisper, "Mara, is this a dream? Is Pharaoh really here?"

"Tell me, why have you not wedded this Syrian beauty?" Nefer asked from his seat, "Are we Syrians too lowly for an Egyptian prince?"

"That was not the case," Thutmose answered.

"Then was it a matter of incompatibility?" Nefer chuckled. Thutmose didn't deign to reply.

"If she is still untouched, I will gladly take her for myself," Nefer's gaze on Inanni was altogether transparent, "You cannot imagine how much it would please me to bed the daughter of my enemy, to deflower her – "

"You will not touch her. Nor will anyone else. She was promised to me, and I will marry her." Thutmose's deep voice echoed throughout the chamber. For a time, nobody spoke. Thutmose kept his gaze steady on Nefer.

"Why should I believe those words? Moreover, how can I believe you truly desire peace with Syria? The alliance is in doubt, Thutmose." Nefer set his goblet down with such force some of the purple liquid sloshed over its rim. He rose to his feet. "In my mind, if you are sincerely committed to your alliance and intend to marry Inanni, then why not do it today? Why not have the ceremony right here?"

"Why not indeed?" Thutmose growled, sparing Inanni the briefest of glances, "If the maid agrees, I will marry her this minute."

"What say you, princess?" Nefer's voice oozed false chivalry, "Will you marry the great Pharaoh of Egypt?"

Inanni struggled to her feet, clutching Mara like a child. It was happening too fast. Her eyes sought Pharaoh's, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. The room, she realized, was silent. Everyone was waiting for her response, even the drunkards. Her mouth felt like parchment, her eyes still struggled to focus. She had to respond, and rejecting Pharaoh was impermissible. Her voice was tiny, but she managed to say, "Y-yes."

King Nefer clapped his hands, a conniving grin on his lips. Several servants came forward, and he gave his orders to them. With some effort, Nefer got to his feet, inclining his head in a tiny bow to Pharaoh.

"Majesty, you heard the princess. We will have a wedding tonight – no doubt it will be less elegant than an Egyptian ceremony, however, nothing is as important as uniting two lovers, aye?"

Thutmose gave a single nod as a response.

"I will ask no more questions about why Inanni has come, and why you have arrived after your…diplomats," Nefer's bloodshot eyes expressed the opposite of his words, "now I must advise you all to depart for preparation. It is going to be a long night." His smile only added to the unsettling air to fog over the group. Nefer's servants responded to his gestures and he was escorted from the room in his usual style, as Pharaoh watched. Finally, servants took Inanni and the Egyptians back to the guest quarters. Thutmose witnessed Mara helping Inanni along, the young Syrian stricken and pale. The ladies disappeared into their chamber and Thutmose joined Sheftu in his. Pharaoh's guards stood watch in the hallway.

The moment the door was closed, Sheftu bowed low and said, "Forgive me, I thought it safer to keep the princess with me than to send her back to Egypt." Thutmose snapped his fingers irritably.

"Rise, Sheftu. It isn't your doing, this mess." He was already pacing, his hands wringing the royal cobra from his brow. "Tell me what you have found out, and be quick, we don't have much time."

"Much time?"

"If we can stop the wedding, we must!" Pharaoh stopped pacing just long enough to punctuate his words with a stony glare.

"Wedding?" Sheftu said.

Thutmose recalled suddenly that Sheftu didn't speak Babylonian – he wouldn't know what Nefer had said. In a matter of minutes Pharaoh summarized the events in the throne room as Sheftu listened.

"And I'll be hanged if this wedding takes place!" Thutmose said as he came to the end of events.

There was a little pause before Sheftu said, "Although political marriages need not be based on mutual care or affection - "

"I care for her!" Thutmose interrupted, "I want her, but only if she wants to be my wife." he finished in a softer tone.

Sheftu was nodding quietly. "She did agree," he pointed out.

"Yes, but only under the pressure of that bastard on her father's throne!"

"You think she was lying?"

"I think she was doing what she believed to be right."

"That is possible. However, Majesty, I have deeper concern about Nefer's intentions." Sheftu was fiddling with trinkets on the table as he spoke. A deep crease formed on his brow as he said, "It's obvious Nefer is plotting your demise."

"Even I could tell that much," Thutmose stomped into a chair, sitting and rubbing his own temples.

"You think he will poison you?" Sheftu picked up a quill from the table and stroked the feathers.

"Either poison or slit my throat in the night."

"What purpose could this wedding even serve?" Sheftu pondered, thinking out loud.

"If he wants me to marry Inanni, he wants me alive, but only to use me." Thutmose took off his headdress and ran a big hand through his hair.

"You did say he mentioned the alliance," Sheftu tapped the quill on the table, "And he has her family held prisoner. I imagine he will collect a ransom from you."

Thutmose huffed, kicking the bedpost from his chair. "I grow weary of being controlled in life, Sheftu. First my sister, now this pretend-King?"

Sheftu replied with just a nod of understanding.

"Let us settle this quickly," the King returned the headdress to its place above his brow, "what have you found?"

/

Mara held Inanni's hand as she wept on the bed in their room, her face hidden in a pillow. There was much to be said, but Mara could only manage, " _Shhh_ ," as she patted the princess comfortingly.

"Mara it's my fault," Inanni sobbed, her voice muffled.

"Nay, it isn't." Mara soothed.

"Mara," Inanni rose from the pillow, her cheeks blotched red and wet, "I need to confess something."

Mara waited, bracing herself.

"I…" Inanni's chin trembled, "I spoke to that servant girl I recognized – Hisma."

Before Mara could react, Inanni flung herself into Mara's lap, clutching at her skirts as despairing tears soaked the fabric. "Forgive me, Mara, I was weak and stupid."

"Princess," Mara stroked her hair, "you are neither of those things."

"But I told her who I am – I gave away my secret. And now Pharaoh is here and all is crashing down…I have caused so much trouble!"

Mara considered a moment how differently the day would have gone if Nefer hadn't known Inanni's identity. She concluded the real issue was Pharaoh's prescence, as he was putting himself in great danger to be here with naught but a ten-man guard. However true it was that Pharaoh would not have come without Inanni's running away, the fact remained that Mara and Sheftu needed Inanni – no one had considered the importance of females having chaperones within Syria, and her advice had saved their necks more than once.

"Do not dwell on it, Princess. You have served a great purpose in Pharaoh's mission thus far, and we must continue to help him."

"What are we to do?" Inanni whispered.

"We must play along with things until further notice. Leave it to Sheftu's plans…you'll see, this will soon be over."

"But the King – he will be forced to wed me!" Inanni choked on more sobs.

"He was going to marry you in Egypt, was he not?" Mara patted the little hand fisting her skirts.

"…N-nay, Mara. The more I think about it," she paused as her voice quavered, "I think he was only trying to keep me from returning here at such a dangerous time."

"Then he _must_ care!" Mara shook Inanni's shoulder, "If he disliked you, surely the King wouldn't attempt to protect you, or even help your family."

Inanni had no response; her weeping calmed, but she remained on Mara's lap.

"Come, let us get up and prepare for the ceremony." Mara tugged the princess.

"Mara," Inanni turned her head to peer up at Mara from a tangle of hair stuck to dampened cheeks, "We should tell Sheftu and the King…about Hisma."

Mara gazed at the princess, thoughtfully. It could be this Hisma was the traitor of the royal family – and if that was the case, she was both a threat and a valuable resource of information. Inanni was right about alerting the men – but how? Mara knew their doors would be heavily surveyed by Nefer's guards.

There was a knock before a servant entered, announcing, "Highness, an Egyptian priest is here to bless thee before your union…he claims this is common practice in Egypt? Shall I let him in?" Mara and Inanni exchanged glances before nodding and Inanni said, "Let him in."

The servant bowed and stepped aside so that the priest could pass. A tall figure, cloaked from head to toe stepped into the chamber, a small incense burner jingling from his belt. The Syrian servant left, closing the door. The priest pushed back his hood, and Mara sprang to her feet involuntarily.

"Ladies," he started, but Mara cut him off by dashing up to him, taking him by the arms and exclaiming, "Bhetosh!"

She never thought, by all the stars, that she would ever be so happy to see this imbecile. Bhetosh lit up, chuckling as he drew Mara into an embrace.

"Ah, sweet Nessie," he cooed, "you were missing me as much as I have missed you."

"Aye, aye," Mara withdrew from his hold while rolling her eyes, "though perhaps not as much…"

"Nessie…Nessie," Bhetosh leaned back, admiring Mara's figure, "I must admit, this Syrian attire only adds to your beauty!"

Mara shook her head and said, "We haven't time for this – I need you to carry a message for me – "

"Pray, and who is this celestial maiden? Could she be the legendary Inanni?" Bhetosh moved toward the princess as though Mara hadn't been speaking.

"Ra has worshipped thine eyes, highness, for they sparkle with all manner of sunlight," Bhetosh murmured in smooth Babylonian, taking Inanni's hand, "And Nuit thy cheek, for thou art as fair as a dove's wing."

Mara's eyes widened. He spoke Babylonian? Then why did Thutmose send Mara at all? Inanni reddened as Bhetosh bent to kiss her hand. Mara smirked – of course she knew why Bhetosh hadn't been chosen.

"Asst!" Mara slapped his hands away from the princess, "Make haste! I need you to carry an urgent message to Rasha and the king!"

Bhetosh gave a departing squeeze to Inanni's fingers gently before turning to Mara, "Aye, let's hear it then, my beauty."

"Tell them…" Mara hesitated, staring at the floor, "tell them the princess was betrayed by a harem girl – one called Hisma."

"A harem girl?" Bhetosh's eyebrows climbed his forehead, his smile widening, "I think I know a punishment – "

"We are not interested in your suggestions," was Mara's blunt interception, "just carry the message quickly, and see if we can have an audience before the nuptuals."

"Aye – betrayed by Hisma, the harem girl. Got it." Bhetosh adjusted his sash and cracked his knuckles. "And I will do what I can for the audience, though it's doubtful." He made to leave the chamber, but Innani crept behind him and said in a small voice, "P-pardon, Holy One, but could you please carry another message?"

Bhetosh captured her hands again in an instant. "Is it a message of love? You need not be coy, I'm standing right here."

Inanni was reduced to stammers and blushing, unable to meet his eyes. Mara sighed.

"Stop your flirting if you know what's best for you, she is engaged to our king!"

"Quite right," Bhetosh loosed the princess, "and could it be, my sweet lilly, that you are jealous?"

Mara's response was a huff and toss of her head as she strode to the other side of the room.

"Excuse me," came the princess's soft plea, "could you please…?"

"Aye, of course, highness," Bhetosh bowed respectfully, "what is it?"

"P-please ask him...our King…if he would regret the marriage." Inanni studied the floor, looking small.

"He won't regret it," Bhetosh said in a tone that drew Mara's attention. He was, for the first time she believed, being genuine. Inanni's countenance brightened.

"I will carry your messages," Bhetosh addressed them both, "farewell, blessed maidens." He bowed again before leaving the room.

Hours passed without opportunity to leave or gain additional information. Mara sweated despite the general chill and watched with sympathy the princess going through the motions of wedding preparations. The servants, now gushing over the princess's revealed identity, made a fuss over the upcoming nuptuals – all claimed to be in raptures over the blessed union and the joyous surprise of having their princess at home for the happy event. Inanni sat still and emotionless, not even roused enough to be her usual nervous self.

The maids wove ribbons and flowers into Inanni's flowing dark hair, framing her face with sweet blossoms. Her head was covered with an elaborate veil of embroidered silk, and her body adorned with precious jewels. Her clothing, though conservatively cut, was made of luxurious fabrics from far away lands, in bright colors that accentuated her pale skin and dark eyes.

Mara was also given special wedding clothes and her hair was styled under her own silk headdress. As the servants helped Mara into her outer layers, her mind drifted to the somber truth of what was about to take place. She didn't doubt the King's devotion to Inanni, however, she harbored much anxiety over Nefers intentions. It was clear to her – nay, obvious – that Nefer was plotting something, and she only hoped it was a ransom; the alternative being to kill the King now that he was here and unarmed.

But what purpose would the wedding serve, then? Mara thought hard. It was worth noting that Thutmose would be much more obliged to pay a ransom on a family that was his wedded wife's, rather than his fiancee's, so this was how a marriage would benefit Nefer if his plan was to collect funds. And surely this would be Hisma's motivation, too, upon her revealing the princess's identity.

Killing Pharaoh now would bring nothing but war to the land of Canaan, Mara realized. It was more practical to milk the King for all he had until Nefer grew rich enough to dispose of him. Mara nearly laughed as she thought of how ridiculous Nefer must truly be if he thought no one would overthrow him in such a timeframe. After all, with Sheftu's careful plotting, Nefer had a maximum of seven days – perhaps a fortnight if she was generous in her estimation – of being king. The armies were already assembling, and Nefer had lost the support of the nobles.

Finally, a servant entered and announced it was time to go down. Mara turned to Inanni, taking her hand. It was cold.

"Princess? Shall we go?"

There was a pause.

"For a long time now, I imagined I would be married away from home, without family or friends." Inanni said so quietly that Mara almost didn't hear, "I accepted that."

Mara waited, stroking the chilly hand in hers. It was a while before the princess continued, "But now, to walk down the halls of my childhood, to sit in my father's chairs…to eat where my brothers used to eat…on my wedding day, without them…"

Inanni's dark eyes seemed to dim, to grow hollow. Mara's throat swelled painfully from holding back sudden tears. Inanni had shown her what it was to have kin, and now to watch the princess suffer as Mara had suffered – to know the pain of lost loved ones, to feel so helplessly alone, was almost too much to bear. Somewhere – she did not know from where – Mara found the strength to grip Inanni tighter than ever, lift her chin and say, "Inanni. You are a princess of Canaan. Your people are here. They are as much your family as your father and brothers. Are you not their rightful ruler?"

Inanni blinked.

"Aye, you are." Mara said warmly, "And your family would be most proud to see you walking through these halls with your head held high – this is your home!"

A tiny spark flickered in Inanni's wide eyes.

"You will go out there and show this Nefer who is truly royalty. You are going to marry the Pharaoh of Egypt and make him very happy. On _your_ lands, with _your_ people."

Inanni's round, pale face shone – her gaze steady and full of hope.

"Mara, you're right," Inanni clutched her, "This is my home! These are my brethren. This is what I wanted – and even if Nefer is arranging it today, I will make it my own. I can only hope to please Pharaoh as much as I can over time. It is what my father and brothers would want. They would be happy…I will be sure to smile today for them."

Inanni pulled Mara into her arms. "Thank you, Mara," she whispered.

Mara returned the gesture and said, "No need to thank me, highness. Shall we go down?"

"I'm ready," Inanni said, pulling back and looping arms with Mara, "Let us go together."


End file.
